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LECTITRES 



..2Z£ 



ON 



AMERICAN LITERATURE, 



WITH 



REMARKS ON SOME PASSAGES 



OF 



AMERICAN HISTORY. 



BY SAMUEL L. KNAPP. 



" Nor rough, nor barren, are the winding ways 
Of hoar antiquity, but strewn with flowers." y 

" Peace to the just man's memory,— let it growf -J: ,' 
Greener with years, and blossom through the flight ' 
Of ages ; let the mimick canvass show 
His caM^beiAevolent features ; let the li^ht 
Stream on hia deeds of love, that shunn'd the sight 
Ot all hut heaven, and in the book of fame 
The glorious record of his virtues write. 
And hold it up to men, and bid them claim 
A palm like his, and catch from him the liallowed flame," 

— " The freshness of that past shall still 

Sacred to memory's holiest musuigs be," 

Sand9, 




Bryant- 



STEREOTYPED BY JAMES CONNER. 



PUBLISHED BY ELAM BLISS, 
No. 107 Broadway. 

1829. 



Southern District of New-York, ss. 

Be it remembered, That on the 8th day of October, A. D. 1829, in the 
fifty-fourth year of the Independence of the United States of America, 
Samuel L. Knapp, of the said District, has deposited in this office the title 
of a book, the right whereof he claims as author, in the words following, 
to wit: — 

"Lectures on American Literature, with remarks on some passages of 
American History. By Samuel L. Knapp. 

" Nor rough, nor barren, are the wniding ways 
Of hoar antiquity, but etrewn with flowers." 

" Peace to the just man'a memory, — let it grow 
Greener witli years, and blossom through the flight 
Of ages ; let the mimick canvass show 
His calm benevolent features ; let the light 
Stream on his deeds of love, that shunn'd the sight 
Of all liut heaven, and in the book of lame 
The glorious record of his virtues write, 
And hold it up to men, and bid them claim 
A. palm Uke his, and catch from him the Iiallowed flame." 

BryanU. 

• " The freshness of that past shall still 

Sacred to memory's holiest musings be." 

Sands." 

In conformity to the act of Congress of the United States, entitled, "An 
Act for the encouragement of Learning, by securing the copies of Maps, 
Charts, and Books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during 
the time therein mentioned." And also to an Act, entitled, " An Act, sup- 
plementary to an Act, entitled, an Act for the encouragement of Learning, 
by securing the copies of Maps, Charts, and Books, to the authors and 
proprietors of such copies, during the times therein mentioned, and ex- 
tending the benefits thereof to the arts of designing, engraving, and etching 
historical and other prints." 

FRED. J. BETTS, 
Clerk of the Southern District of New- York. 



Ludwig & Tolefree, Printers. 



uJ 



TO 



WILLIAM AUSTIN SEELY, ESQ. 



COUNSELrLOR AT liAW. 



Mt dear Sib, 

To you, who, amid the cares of a full practice in a laborious and an all- 
absorbing profession, surrounded by clients and engaged in courts, have 
found time, by system and method, to collect the literature and science of 
every age, and to taste, most lihprally, of their sweets, I respectfully dedicate 
this humble volume, in which I have attempted to describe, by a few faint 
sketches, and with some passing remarks, the literature, the talents, and the 
character of our ancestors. I have taken this liberty, because I was confident 
that you would favour the effort, whatever might be its success with the pub- 
lick, as you understood the motives which called it forth ; and for another 
reason, which is, that I know you are among the number who are anxious 
that we, as a people, should speak freely and justly of ourselves, and honestly 
strive to place our claims to national distinction on the broad basis of well 
authenticated historical facts ; this would soon be accomplished, if all our able 
and enlightened scholars would come forward to aid the few who are toiling in 
the cause : yet, with a few exceptions, our pride has rather led us to make 
spirited retorts, than laborious researches, for an answer to those who question 
our literary and scientifick character : — The work I now present you and the 
publick, is only offered as the opening argument of junior counsel, in the great 
cause instituted to establish the claims of the United States to that intellectual, 
literary, and scientifick eminence, which we say, she deserves to have, and 
ought to maintain ; and in this, I have attempted but Uttle more than to state 
my points, name my authorities, and then have left the whole field for those 
abler advocates who may follow me. To be thought by you, and those like 
you, capable of judging, that I have opened the cause fairly, and made out a 
respectable brief to hand to others, will be suiRcient praise for me ; I will not, 
in these few Unes, devoted to personal respect and friendship, enter far into 
my plans, or fully express my hopes ; but leaving these for time to develop, or 
for your private ear, I will only add my sincere prayers that your life may be 
long, and continued as happy and prosperous as it has heretofore been, and 
that your generous exertions, of every kind, may at all times meet with a just 
measure of gratitude, the richest recompense a high mind can receive. 

Your obliged friend and humble servant, 

SAMUEL L. KNA#P. 
November, 1829. 



PREFACE. 

Every book that is ushered into the world, is a mental experiment of the writer, to as- 
certain the taste, and to obtain the judgement of the community; and the author can only 
be certain of one thing, and that is, of his intentions in his publication. Of my intentions, I 
can only say, as, perhaps, I have a dozen times said in the course of my work, they were 
to exhibit to the rising generation something of the history of the thoughts and intellectual 
labours of our forefathers, as well as of their deeds. There is, however, an intimate con- 
nexion between thinking and acting, particularly among a free and an energetick people. 
My plan, when I commenced my researches, was an extensive one, and I gathered copious 
materials to carry it into effect. For several years past, I have had access to libraries rich 
in American literature ; but when I sat down to work up the mass I had collected, the thought 
suggested itself to my mind, that no adequate compensation could ever be reasonably ex- 
pected for my pains; and then the consciousness that I was in some measure trespassing 
upon my professional pursuits, went far to quench my zeal, and to chase away my visions 
ol literary reputation. Still, I could not be persuaded to relinquish altogether my design, 
and I therefore set about abridghig my outlines, dispensing with many of my remarks, and 
giving up numerous elaborate fini.shings I had promised myself to make in the course of my 
work. And another thought struck me most forcibly, that a heavy publication would not be 
readily within the reach of all cla-sses of youth in our country, but that a single volume of 
common size, in a cheap edition, might find its way into some of our schools, and lie of ser- 
vice in giving our children a wish to pursue the subject of our literary history, as they ad- 
vanced in years and in knowledse. The instructors of our youth, when true to their 
trust, form a class in the community that I hold in respect and esteem, and they will 
pardon me for making a few remarks to them. Your calling is high, I had almost said holy. 
To your intelligence, patience, good temper, purity of life, and soundness of principles, pa- 
rents look for the forming of healthy, vigorous mintls, in their children, If you cannot create 
talents, you can do something better ; you can guide the fiery, and wake up the dull ; correct 
the mischievous, and encourage the timid. The temple of knowledge is committed to your 
care ; the priesthood is a sacred one. Every inscription on the walls should be kept 
bright, that the dimmest eye may see, and the slowest comprehension may read and be 
taught to understand. Your task is great, and every member of the community, who is 
able to give you any assistance, should come to your aid in the great busines.s of instruction. 
In this way much has been done ;— much, however, remains to be done. The elements of 
learning have been simplified, and thousands of children have been beguiled along the path- 
way of knowledge, who never could have been driven onward. Geography has been made 
easy and fascinating, and the elements of natural philosophy very pleasant ; and what was 
once diflicult and harsh to young minds in many studies, has become attractive. His- 
tory, both sacred and profane, has assumed new charms as it has been prepared for the 
school-room ; I speak of the history of other countries, net of our own. We have very good 
histories— narrative, jiolitlcal, inilitary, and constitutional ; but I know none, as yet, that can 
be calle.d literary — meaning by the term, a history of our literature, and of our literary men; 
and probably it will be a long time before we shall have such an one as we ought to have. 
Our Sismondis, D'Israclis, are yet to arise. You will struggle in vain to make American 
historjf well understood by your pupils, unless biographical sketches, anecdotes, and literary 
selections, are mingled with the mass of general facts. The heart must be affected, and the 
imaginati m seized, to make Icisting impressions upon the memory. 

One word to your pride: — you are aware that it has been said by foreigners, and often 
repeated, that there was no such thing as American literature ; that it would be in vain for 
any one to seek for proofs of taste, mind, or information, worth iwssessing, in our early re- 
cords; and some of our citizens, who have never e.xamined these matters, have rested so 
quietly after these declarations, or so faintly denied them, that the bold asserters of these 
libels have gained confidence in tauntingly repeating them. The great epoch in our history 
—the revolution of 1775 — seemed sufficient, alone, to many of the present generation, to 
give us, as a people, all the celebrity and rank, among the nations of the e^rth, Wo ought to 
aspire to, without taking the trouble to go back to the previous ages of heraiclj virtue and 
gigantick latxmre. Many of the present generation are willing to think that our ancestors 
■were a pious and persevering race of men, who really did possess some strength of charac- 
ter, but, without turther reflection, they are icady tn allow that .1 few p.iges are " ample 
room and verge enough" to trace their character and their history together. I have ven- 
tured to think differently, and also to flatter myself, that, at the present day, it would not be 
a thankless task to attempt to delineate some of the prominent features of our ancestors in 
justification of my opinion. This errour can only he eradicated by your assistance, and 
that by instilling into the minds of our children, in your everyrday lessons, correct informa- 
tion upon these subjects ; — and while you lead your pupils through the paths of miscellaneous 
J^ and classical literature — and, at the present day, even the humblest education partakes of 

a^ much that is of a classical nature — be it your duty, also, to make them acquainted with the 
" minutest portions of their country's history. No people, who do not love themselves better 
than all others, can ever be prosperous and great. A sort of inferiority always hangs about 
him who unduly reverences another. If " knoic thyself," be a sound maxim for individual 
consideration, ''think leell of thyself " should be a national o|io. Patriotism and greatness 
begin at the maternal bosom, are .seen in the nur.sery and primary school, and quicken into 
lite in every advancing stage of knowledge. Guardians of a nation's morals, framers of \iu 
tellectual greatness, show to your charge, in proper lights, the varied talent of your country, 
in every age of her history ; and inscribe her glories of roiiid, and heart, and deed, as with a 
sun-beam, upon their memories. 
New- ItoTk, Nov. 1829. 



CONTENTS. 



LECTURE I. 

The English language our inheritance ; all other possessions from our own 
industry. The care we have taken of it. The language of a people a 
proof of their advancement in knowledge. The effect of climate on language. 
Our language too much neglected. The language of the ancient Britons. 
The Saxon language from Alfred the Wise to Alfred the Great. The 
change of the Saxon after the conquest. The origin of the English language. 
For good poetry there must be a high degree of mental cultivation. The 
English language enriched from many sources. The copiousness, and the 
strength of the English language ; Specimens; beauty, sweetness, majesty, 
with specimens for illustration. The diffusion of the English language. 
The attention now paid to the acquisition of it. The necessity of keeping 
it pure. The origin of dictionaries. Dr. Johnson's labours. Dr. Web- 
ster's dictionary. The invention of the Cherokee alphabet. See-quah-yah 
the inventor ; the method of liis invention of letters, and of numbers ; his 
talents and character. The Cherokee newspaper, &c. - - - 9 
LECTURE n. 

Literature. Plan of the following lectures. Greek literature. General 
observations. Roman and Arabick literature. The value of lectures in 
communicating knowledge. The state of learning when our ancestors 
came to this country. The character of the colonists. Sir Walter Raleigh 
sent to this country. The Virginia settlement. John Smith, his character 
and writings. The pilgrims. The settlement of the province of Massa- 
chusetts Bay, The value of the bible to the first settlers ; and to all men. 
The object and hopes of the lecturer. .... 29 

LECTURE IIL 

Sketches of some of the pilgrims ; Brewster, Bradford, Standish, Winslow. 
Proofs of the intellectual advancement of the pilgrims. The books they 
wrote ; Morton's Memorial, Winslow's Good News, Mourt's Journal. 
The precarious situation of the first settlers. The colony of Massachusetts 
Bay. Winthrop, as a magistrate and historian, Dudley, Sir Richard 
Saltonstall, John Wilson, John Elliot, the apostle to the Indians. The 
Sheppards and their writings. Nathaniel Ward, Peter Bulkley, Nathaniel 
Rogers, Ezekiel Rogers. The founding of Harvard College, Presidents, 
Dunster, Chauncey, Hoar, Oaks, Rogers, Increase Mather. Mathematical 
science. John Sherman. Progress of literature in the ancient dominion. 
Their clergy. Maryland settled by respectable cathoiicks. New- York. 
History of the Waldenses. Settlement of Connecticut ; its distin- 
guished men ; of New-Hampshire ; of Riiode Island. Roger Williams. 
The character of the females of that age ; the cause of their superiority. 
General remarks upon our progenitora _ _ _ _ , 43 

A 8 



6 CONTENTS. 

l|| LECTURE IV. 

The characters of the Mathers, father and son. William Penn ; the rapid 
growth of his colony. The literature of Pennsylvania. The origin of 
Yale College. Mention of Berklej^ dean of Derry ; his bounty ; his pro- 
phetick poem. The administration of Governor Saltonstall. The liberal 
views of Calef. Burnett, his eloquence, and writings. Jeremy Dummer. 
Lieutenant Governor Dmnmer. Charter of William and Mary ; the advan- 
tages derived from it. John Read, a luminary of the law. Lord Cornbury. 
The literature of South Carolina. William and Mary College in Virginia. 
A general summary, reviewing the first century to its close. - 58 

LECTURE V. 
A view of the population, difficulties, changes, and state of the colonies at the 
commencement of the second century. Thomas Prince. The character 
of Benjamin Franklin, David Mason. The mathematicians and astrono- 
mers ; Travis, Ames, and Douglass. The metaphysicians. President Ed- 
wards and his son. The discussion respecting the introduction of episco- 
pal bishops. The writers on the subject, Apthorp, Seabury, Johnson, 
Chauncey, Mayhew. Sketch of Mayhew. The origin of Columbia College 
in the city of New- York ; Brown, in Rhode Island, and Dartmouth, in 
New-Hampshire. The mathematicians who distinguished themselves by 
their observations on the transit of Venus ; Rittenhouse and others. Win- 
throp's opinion on the evidences of Christianity. ... 75 

LECTURE VL 

The excitement just before the revolution. The writs of assistance. Otis, 
Gridley, Samuel Adams. Thomas Hutchinson. Josiah Q.uincy. Dr. 
Samuel Cooper, his taste, eloquence, and fine writings. The massacre. 
The proceedings thereon. The orators in succession on this anniversary. 
The bold doctrines advanced. Attention to Oriental literature. Stephen 
Sewall deeply read in Eastern languages. The republick of letters. The 
influence of the student on society. 89 

LECTURE VII. 

The coolness exhibited by our patriots of the revolution. The conduct of the 
Provincial Congress at Watertown, July 17, 1775. Their first views of the 
battle of Bunker Hill. The Continental Congress. Their decision and mo- 
desty. Tlieir petitions to the king, and people of Great Britain. The style of 
the pamphlets and letters of that period. Charleston, (S. C.) first celebrated 
the 4th of July. Dr. Ramsay, and Dr. Ladd, orators. Judge Brecken- 
ridge, eulogium on the brave men who had fallen in the contest with Great 
Britain. A parallel between the oration of Pericles and the American 
orator. Washington a sound, excellent writer. Compared with other 
* great chieftains. The conventions called in the several states for taking 
k into consideration the question of the adoption of the Federal constitution. 
A succinct view of the speakers in some of the conventions, pro and con. 
Fears and jealousies, hopes and anticipations. The deep interest foreigners 
took in the question. The Remembrancer. The Federalist. The first 
Congress. I'he style of our early laws. The characters of the first secre- 
taries. The debating talents in the first Congress. The relationship be- 



:i 



CONTENTS. 7 

tween literature and science. Changes in legal reasoning, and the causes 
of it. Theology, its trials, its virtues, and its literature. - - 102 

LECTURE VIII. 
Physicians and clergymen, the same for many years. The early physicians and 
surgeons. The diseases they had to contend with ; periods of the preva- 
lence of the small pox. Thomas Thatcher's book. Robert Child. Ger- 
shom Bulkley. Dr. Douglass' work. Dr. Boylston. Botanists ; Catesb}} 
and Clayton, Dudley, and others. Hippocrates' description of a quacks 
The physicians who figured as officers in the revolutionary war. The 
heads of medical schools ; Rush, Middleton, Warren, Dexter, Waterhouse, 
Smith, and others. Character of Dr. Holyoke, his great age and wonder, 
ful serenity of mind. Slight notices of several historians and biographers. 
Medical writers, and those who have touched both history and fiction. 
Periodicals, newspapers, &c. The disposition of the EngUsh softening 
towards our writers, and the country generally. - - - - 118 

LECTURE IX. 
A general description of poetry and its uses. A succinct view of English 
poetry from its early dawn in the twelfth century, to the time of Shakspeare, 
or to the time this country was settled. American poetry and poets. 
John Smith. Poetry of Morton's New-England Memorial. Hooker's, 
Norton's, Woodbridge's elegiack verses. Bradford's, Elliot's, Wiggles- 
worth's labours. Thomas Makin's verse, and Governor Wolcott's, with 
anonymous ballads, and love-lorn elegies. Green, Byles, Osbom, God- 
frey, and Pratt. 139 

LECTURE X. 

The state of American poetry at the commencement of the revolution. 
Hopkins, Dwight, Barlow, Humphreys, Hopkmson, Trumbull, Freneau. 
Sewell, Linn. Lathrop, Paine, Prentiss, Boyd, Clifton, Isaac Story, Allen, 
Osbom, Spencc, Brainard. A prepared supplement to Gray's Elegy. 
Reason for not mentioning living poets. Change of opinion on the pbssi- 
bility of uniting ornament with strength in our prose writing. Our own 
country as good for poetry as any other, and our own citizens as poeti- 
cal. 163 

LECTURE XI. 

The fine arts of a later growth than poetry ; the causes. The artists who 
were born or flourished in America. Smybert, Copley, West, Johnson, 
Hancock. Stuart, a portrait. Malbone. Trumbull, a short memoir. De- 
scription of his four pictures, the property of the United States. Stan- 
dard painting. Engraving. Sculpture. ----- 189 

LECTURE XIL 
The faculty of speech the prerogative of man ; and eloquence at all times his 
boast. The eloquence of Aaron. Its uses in all times and nations. In- 
dian history is full of the passion for eloquence. The Winnebagoes ; their 
speeches. The eloquence of Tecumseh. The varieties of eloquence. 
First, second, and third orders of public speaking. The great opportunities 
in our free country for becoming good speakers ; the pulpit, the bar, and 



8 CONTENTS. 

the numerous publick assemblies, so many schools for learning the art of 
speaking. The eloquence in Congress. Our language not patrimonial, 
but maternal, by a just discrimination in forming the word to describe it. 
The vernacular. The eloquence of our early ages. A sketch of a few of 
our orators of a later period. Patrick Henry, Mr. Madison, John Adams, 
Alexander Hamilton, Gouverneur Morris, Fisher Ames, Samuel Phillips, 
Samuel Dexter, Pinckney ; with attempts to mark the style of each as far 
as a slight sketch would convey their different manners, - - 209 

LECTURE Xni. 
Our military character. The wars the colonies were engaged in. Character 
of King Philip. Exploit of Mrs. Dustori'. The attack on Norridgewock. 
Lovewell's fight. Tlie sufferings of Virginia. The niunerous attacks or 
preparations for attack on Canada. The alTair of Louisbourg. The suc- 
ceeding events. Braddock's defeat. Johnson's fight. Montcalm, on Lake 
George. The Indian Chief Hendrick. Shirley. Abercrombie, Lord 
Howe. Amherst, Wolfe. The close of that war. The revolutionary war. 
The people loyal ; the pangs of separation, the awful opening of the great 
drama of the revolution. The battle of Bunker Hill. Death of Warren. 
The uses of the blood spilt. The necessity of being provided for war to 
prevent it. ----- 227 

LECTURE XIV. 
Washington's first appearance at the head of the army. The veneration he was 
held in. The expedition to Q,uebeck, daring and hazardous. Washington's 
character developed at the battle of Trenton and Princeton. The taking 
of Burgoyne. A sketch of him. The battles which followed as showing 
their bearing upon events, and as showing the character of the American 
people. The debt the present generation owe the past. How the hero should 
be rewarded when living, and honoured when dead. What was prepared to 
be done, to perpetuate the memory of Washington. Hale, the martyr. 
Pidaski. Kosciusko. L' Enfant. Daniel Boone. West Point. - 243 

LECTURE XV. 

The naval character of our country. Its earliest beginnings. The naval 
force at the capture of Louisbourg, as taken from ancient documents. The 
exertion for a naval force in Massachusetts. In Congress. Washington's 
prompt conduct in regard to captures. The great success of the American 
navy. The probable number of vessels captured. A few of our naval 
heroes of that age mentioned. The close of this war. The resuscitation 
• of the navy arising from commercial enterprise. The proceedings in Con- 
gress, 1794. The quasi war of 1798. The doings of our navy at that 
time. Truxton, Shaw, and others. The reduction of the navy in 1801. 
Its immediate increase for the war of Tripoli. Remarks upon that ; some 
of those distinguished mentioned. The certainty of our continuing to be a 
maritime people, and keeping up a navy, drawn from the deep rooted par- 
tiality seen for this kind of defence in every expression of pubUck senti- 
ment. .......---. 266 

Postscript, ..-..------ 286 

Appendix. ...--. 289 



•* 



LECTURE I. 



" Words are things." 

Mirabeau. 



Almost every thing the people of the United States now possess, 
has grown from their own sagacity, industry, and perseverance. 
The httle patrimony they had, has been muUiphed ten thousand 
fold ; for they have been blessed by a kind providence, in their bas- 
ket and their store. Their institutions, if in some measure copied 
from those of other countries, have been modelled to suit the genius 
and habits of the people, and have been changed and enlarged to cor- 
respond Avith the growth of the nation. Their language alone is 
theirs by inheritance. Tliey received it from their progenitors, and 
have kept it unpolluted and unchanged. It has been in different ages 
here a little modified, as in England, to be a more explicit me- 
dium of thought ; and taste and euphony have, at times, made some 
exertions to drop one class of words and assume another; but they 
have destroyed none ; and as occasion requires, those left out of 
fashionable use, for a season, have, after a while, been called up and 
restored to their former places in good company. • 

From the extension of commercial relations, and from the nu- 
merous conquests of the mother country, it would have been natural 
to expect that her language would have, in process of time, become 
somewhat a different one from that of her colonies in this country : 
but our commerce has followed hers so closely, and we have had so 
entirely the benefit other mass of literature as soon as it was known 
to her own people, that the first adoptwn of a foreign word, or the 
slightest change in the use of one of her old stock, has been noticed 
on this side of the Atlantic ; and we have wisely followed the public 
taste of the mother country, nor vainly thought that it would be 
wisdom to struggle for an independency in letters, as far as they 
regarded the use of our vernacular. This language was our birth- 
right as Englishmen, and its preservation in its purity clearly 
shows how much we value it. The language that is addressed 
to the ear alone is soon changed or lost, but that which is ad- 
dressed to the eye as well as the ear, is long preser-s'cd by a twofold 
impression upon the mind. The sight is more faithful than the ear, 
and preserves her knoAvledge longer ; both are necessary to keep a 

2 



10 LECTURES ON 

language alive in its purity. The study of the language of a people 
is one of the best methods of sounding the depths of their know- 
ledge, and of measuring their advancement in arts and arms, and ol 
ascertaining the nature of their general pursuits and habits ; and 
perhaps it may not be going too far to say, that geograpliical po- 
sitions may be known by the examination of a nation's vocabulary 
alone. The soft air of Italy and France has given, in a long suc- 
cession of years, by natural causes, operating upon body and mind, 
and which might be easily analyzed, if we would take the pains to 
do it, a delicious sweetness to the tones of the human voice, a me- 
lody to the sounds of words, and a harmony in the construction of 
sentences, which the inhabitants of the colder regions of the north 
can never know among themselves. This principle is tested by the 
still softer and more musical notes of the West India Creoles. With 
them almost every word is vitiated in pronunciation, and reduced 
to a sort of infantile imbecility, yet it is most musical. The Eng- 
lish language has not with us, generally speaking, been deeply 
studied by those who use it, either for the common business of 
life, or by those who make it a vehicle of matters of high import 
in enlightening and directing their countrymen. 

English etymology has not, until lately, been a part of a classical 
education. Our scholars have been content to take, and use, words 
as they found them, sanctioned by good writers, without much en- 
quiry into their derivations, or primitive significations; nor is it my 
object to go further in these remarks than to sliow, that we have 
kept a constant watch over our mother tongue, and if we have 
sometimes, after great Englisli models, laboured to sink many of the 
good old words of our language, and to supply their places by those 
formed from the Latin and Greek languages, yet that we were ready, 
from taste and judgement, to go bade again, and take those dis- 
carded, home-bred words of strong meaning and peculiar fitness, 
whenever tlie established writers have led the way. Several mo- 
dern sciiolars have shewn us the force, precision, and even beauty 
of our old English, and we hail this returning to the homestead as 
an unfailing sign of good judgement, I liave thrown together a few 
observations upon our language, to induce the English scholar to 
examine the treasures he is in possession of, and to shew the reader, 
that if our fatliers' style does not always suit the present taste, yet 
that they were masters of their vernacular, as well as deeply read in 
the learned languages. And this I shall (io, not by pointing out par- 
ticular passages, but by calling the attention of the reader to the ge- 
neral tenour of their works. 

It is the belief of the learned, that all languages had a common ori- 
gin; for there are words in all the languages they have examined, 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. H 

which bear relationship to each other. Sometimes the resemblance 
or kindred features are near and strong, at other times remote, but 
containing such resemblances as cannot lie mistaken: and until some 
other account more satisfactory is given by some retrospective seer, 
I am willing to take the account given by Moses of the confusion of 
tongues, as sufficiently true to answer the phenomenon which has 
no other solution. I am a lover of words, for I do not believe that 
there can be much reasoning of a moral nature without them; and 
sure I am, that no man ever despised the science of words who un- 
derstood it to any considerable extent. It may be true, that the mind 
may be so much engaged in the pursuit of various tongues as to en- 
feeble its force in more severe studies; but the literary world exhibits 
so few instances of this nature, that we need not fear the effects of a 
pretty liberal attention to the languages; certainly, a careful exami- 
nation of our mother tongue Avill not be thought improper by those 
who object to the attention paid to the learned languages. The 
origin, the history, the sweetness, the copiousness, the force and ma- 
jesty, and importance of the English language, are subjects wortliy 
the attention of the English scholar in our country at the present 
day, when so many facilities are offered him for the study of it; 
such facilities, that one may learn more in six months upon this 
branch of knowledge now, than he could have done in ten years if he 
had commenced half a century ago. 

The language of the ancient Britons, from the time they were first 
known to the Romans, was Teutonic, or Scythian. The people were 
rude and fierce, and their language had the same cast of character, 
as far as we know any thing about it. When Julius Caesar first 
landed on the shores of Albion, the people exhibited the highest 
traits of courage, and met the polished armour of the skilful Roman 
soldiers in dauntless nakedness. From this time, which was before 
the christian era, until the conquest of Alarie, more than four centu- 
ries these rude people were instructed by the Romans in arts and arms. 
The sons of the native kings and chiefs were taught the philosophi- 
cal and polished language of their conquerors ; and this instruction 
was pursued and enforced as a mean of bringing the Britons to a 
state of quietude and obedience. During this time many of the 
Roman words had found their way into the native language, or at 
least those formed from the Latin were in use. This is more evi- 
dent in the names of places, perhaps, than in any other class of words. 
Those Britons who acquired the Latin, wrote the native language in 
the Roman character, as we now write the Indian dialects, or differ- 
ent languages of the several tribes, in the same character at this day. 
If the Scythians brought letters with them from Asia, they had pro- 
bably been lost ; or if any relic of them was left, they were only used 



12 LECTURES ON 

as a sort of a Cabala, as the fragments of some languages were by 
the Druids — such as by them were called Runic characters, some- 
thing out of which to make a charm. 

About the middle of the fifth century (449) the Saxons made their 
first invasion, of any importance, of the island of Britain. Soon 
after Hengist gained a foothold, Horsa followed; and Cedric and 
other invaders took the same course; but it was not until after a 
lapse of many years, that the island was conquered; and then, not 
from the strength of the invaders, but from the dissensions of the 
natives. This conquest was, however, a blessing ; for, notwithstand- 
ing the Saxons were barbarous as well as the Britons, yet they were 
a fearless, roaming race of men, who had made more improvements 
in the arts of life tlian the ancient Britons, and their habits of think- 
ing were more enlarged and approximated nearer to civilized life 
than those of the natives of the island. The laws and institutions 
of the Saxons were of a higher mental character than those of most 
other nations then about them on the continent ; but the Saxons re- 
cieved a vast accession to their stock of knowledge, by the introduc- 
tion of Christianity into the island in 596, through the auspices of 
Pope Gregory, a most benevolent representative of Saint Peter. 
This father of the Church sent the learned and pious Augustin on a 
mission to Britain, who after many struggles succeeded in diffusing 
the doctrines of the gospel amongst them, and in inspiring a taste 
for learning, and the arts of industry, and social life. If not before, 
certainly at this time, the Saxon tongue became a written one, and 
was soon expanded and improved by the attentive study of it among 
those ecclesiastics, who wished to diffuse through it the knowledge 
of the scriptures, imtil then a sealed book to the Saxons, and then 
only partially opened. 

About ninety years after the introduction of Christianity into the 
island of Britain, Alfred the wise, of Northumbria, began his reign. 
He had passed his youthful days, when by the death of his brother 
he came to the tlirone of his father. His early years, and many of 
his riper ones, had been spent in study in the cloisters of Ireland, 
whose ecclesiastics were then more learned than all those on the con- 
tinent, if we except a few in Italy. The Irish institutions of learn- 
ing at this period furnished professors for those of France, Ger- 
many, and many other places, Alfred, when in possession of power, 
did not forget his taste for letters, but gathered about him as many 
learned men as he could obtain. Adlielm, a West-Saxon poet, wrote 
for his instruction and amusement " Flowers of the Bible," probably 
a sort of dramatic paraphrase on some portions of scripture ; and also 
treated his royal patron with some touches of the philosophy of that 
age. The wise king bent his mind to improving his people and 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 13 

their language at the same time, and shone conspicuously as a firm 
supporter of Christianity and letters. He was the first to give a re- 
lish for these pursuits to his nobles, who had hitherto found no de- 
light but in war, or the chase. 

The improvement of the Saxon tongue was, generally speaking, 
constantly going on, although the knowledge of the Latin had 
greatly declined from the time of Alfred the wise, until the time 
of Alfred the great, who was born in eight hundred and forty- 
nine. This monarch fills a wider space in the Saxon history than 
all his predecessors, or those Saxon kings who came after him, al- 
though his grandson was quite as great a man as himself. Alfred was 
a pet child ofhis father, who took his son to Rome when he was quite 
young, and brought him to France also, when Athelwelph, the father, 
married Judith the daughter of Charles of France; but in all these 
journeyings the young Alfred had never learned to read. It was his 
fond step-dame who set about this task, and succeeded in laying the 
foundation of making him one of the greatest scholars of that age. 
He sought learned and good men from Ireland, France, and in his 
own country, and commencing with the poetry of his own language, 
which had taken fast hold of his affections when young, he pursued 
it, until he had exhausted all the ballads and legends which were 
written in Saxon, and then set about enlarging the narrow limits of 
the Saxon muses, by compositions of his own, which, in fact, sur- 
passed in excellence all the poetry of his country, as he did his pre- 
decessors in civilization and knowledge. He was not content with 
this, but learned the Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, and assisted to bring 
the rich treasures of these repositories of wisdom into his own mar- 
ket for the supply of his own people, and the refinement of his own 
court. He was riot a mere book-worm neither, for he was as ready 
to fight as to write; to enforce laws as to make them. He was no 
pedant, but the great instructor of his people, anticipating ages by 
the power ofhis understanding, and the reach ofhis genius. Insti- 
tutions of learning arose under his fostering care. The son of Al- 
fred, Edward the elder, was not a whit behind his father in his atten- 
tion to the encouragement of learning, but having a regular educa- 
tion, there was no necessity for such eflfcrts as were made by his 
father; and the infant institutions his father established were in a 
flourishing state. The son of Edward, Athelstan, was a more pow- 
erful Prince than his father or grandfather had been, and extended 
his intercourse with the world more widely. The monastic institu- 
tions which Alfred founded, Athelstan endowed, and gave them 
books collected from every country to which he had access. What- 
ever we may think of monasteries now, they were the protectors 
and preservers of all the learning of antiquity, and the faithful 
B 



14 LECTURES ON 

trustees of all the knowledge committed to their care when they 
were first created. Through several changes of fortune, now 
smiled upon by Edward the Confessor, and then neglected by his 
ambitious successors, learning flourished or declined in the more 
public institutions until the invasion of William the conqueror; but 
it was not often that contemplation was disturbed in the convent's 
shades, for ages after his accession to the throne of England, Here, 
indeed, 

" The little, fat, round oily man of God," 

laughed, slept, or idled life away; "but these deep solitudes and 
awful cells," contained men of true piety and profound learning; 
and to whose industry and wisdom we are now indebted for much 
of our present advancement in knowledge. 

In 1066 William defeated Harold, and became king of England. 
His triumph was so complete that a sudden revolution was made in 
the information, taste, and pursuits of men in that island. It was 
natural for him to think his Norman language, uncouth and rough 
as it was, greatly superior to that of the Saxon, which he did not 
understand. The Church and convent, and perhaps court records, 
which had been kept in Latin, were now in many instances ordered 
to be in Norman. The ballad makers who flocked round the con- 
queror sung his praises in the Norman measure and language, and 
even the deeds of former kings, whose praises had for ages been 
echoed in pure Saxon, were now sung in the rude rhymes of the 
minstrels of the Conqueror: and such was the influence of the new 
order of things, that in the course of half a century the pure Saxon 
was no longer to be found in England; and a new language, the be- 
ginning of what is now our vernacular tongue, grew up there. 
EHis, a learned writer on these subjects, says this was effected in the 
course of forty years after the conquest, and that this change in the 
language of England was completely brought about in this time; 
but we should be nearer the trvith, I imagine, if we should allow 
nearly a century for this transformation. The language was indeed 
changed to the eye and the ear; but still a great proportion of all its 
elements remained, and will forever remain, a strong proof that in 
all the permanent improvements in civilization and knoAvledge, the 
Saxons were greatly in advance of their conquerors. This change 
assisted the advancement of knowledge ; for language when advanced 
towards perfection, is the most labour-saving machine that ever in- 
genuity attempted to invent. The scanty words found in a primi- 
tive language are inadequate to the conveyance of refined or extend- 
ed thought. By these simple elements tlie nice shades of difference 
in thought could be no more than indicated, not fully conveyed by 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 15 

the words written; therefore much was left to the imagination of 
readers, which was supplied when language was only spoken, by 
the looks, gestures, and accents of the speaker; hence arose the su- 
periority, in the early times, of eloquence over Avritten compositions. 
The oral communication was then a better method of conveying 
ideas than the record, however fully exemplified by the scanty lan- 
guage then in use, without taking into consideration the charm there 
has always been in a well toned and well regulated voice. 

As language improved and expanded, the noun and the verb, the 
first elements of language, were found insufficient, with all their de- 
clinations and inflections, to convey thought accurately and forcibly. 
The connecting links, the qualifying terms, the affirmations and ne- 
gations, with the prefixes and affixes, to increase, change, or qiialify 
the power of the words, Avere sought for, and obtained ; sometimes 
by a happy hit, which by frequent repetitions in time became usage, 
and usage law ; or by the elaborate reasonings of the scholar upon 
the doctrines of analogies, or the principles of an easy composition 
or arrangement of sentences. Sometimes the undef standing direct- 
ed in this work of composition and structure of language, but oftener 
the ear ; and when at times the wise and the learned reasoned and 
laid down the rule, the great mass of the people changed it for eu- 
phony sake, and the learned at length came into the same use; for 
custom is the despot over language. In the laws of language, as 
well as in those of national policy, the people, after aU, are the revi- 
sing tribunals; not by their sudden impulses, but by the sober reflec- 
tion of years; and even their OAvn opinions arc revised by their OAvn 
experience. 

The English literature received its share of the acquisitions of 
learning made by the crusaders; and the language of course was 
greatly benefitted by the taste which these heroic adventurers awa- 
kened and cherished. In these epochs of delicacy and refinement, 
many of the coarse words were disused, and those better chosen and 
more appropriate became fashionable. The English language gained 
much from the days of Chaucer to those of Spencer; and more by 
the taste of Shakspeare than by any other person. 

It is a matter of some singularity that so little of the Saxon lan- 
guage is known by our scholars, when on a strict examination we 
find that our poets and prose writers have used so many words 
derived from the Saxon. In Shakspeare, taking out the proper 
names, eight words out of nine are found to be of Saxon origin, as 
exemplified by several quotations taken promiscuously from the 
works of the great dramatist. Milton, tried by the same rule, would 
give tlie proportion of six out of seven. Johnson's works, as he 
coined Latin words and used them freely, about five sixths are Saxon. 



16 LECTURES ON 

In our translation of the Bible, and the writings of Addison and 
Goldsmith, and other writers of simplicity and purity, the propor- 
tion of words of Saxon origin is still greater than in Shakspeare or 
Milton. Our own declaration of Independence, and many other 
American productions, are written in the style which contains a great 
proportion of these words of pure Saxon origin. I will give a few 
specimens of the use of Saxon words among our best writers; fair 
samples of their style, and the use of good old English. The Saxon 
words are in italics. 

But no! the freshness of that past shall still 

Sacred to memory's holiest musings be ,' 

When through the ideal fields of song at icill, 

He roved, and gather' d chaplets icild ^cith thee; 

When, reckless of the world, alone and free, 

Like two -proud barks, we kept our careless way. 

That sail by moonlight o'er the tranquil sea; 

Their white apparel and their streamers gay, 

Bright gleaming o'er the main, beneath the ghostly ray. 

SANDS. 

While thus the shepherds watch' d the host of night. 
O'er heaven's blue concave flash'd a sudden light. 
The unrolling glory spread its folds divine, 
O'er the green hills and vales q/" Palestine ; 
And lo ! descending angels hovering there, 
Stretch'd their loose wings, and in the purple air 
Ifung o'er the sleepless guardians of the fold: 
When that high anthem clear, and strong and bold, 
On wavy paths o/" trembling ether ran: 
Glory to God — Benevolence to man — 

Peace to the world. 

PIERPONT. 

A good man's piety and virtue are not distincft possessions; they are him- 
self, and all the glory which belongs to them belongs to himself. WTiat is re- 
ligion! not a foreign inhabitant, not something alien to our nature, which 
comes and takes up its abode in the soul. It is the sold itself, lifting itself up 
to its maker. What is virtue? It is the soul listening to, and revering and 
obeying, a law, which belongs to its very essence, the law of duty. We some- 
times smile when we hear men decrying human nature, and in the same 
breathing exalting religion to the skies, as if religion were anything more than 
human nature, acting in obedience to its chief laic. 

CHANNING. 

There are some poems in the Saxon language which strongly 
show the rude, bold, and superstitious character of the Saxons before 



. AMERICAN LITERATURE. 17 

Christianity was introduced among them, or had generally spread 
through the island. The Volupsa, the sybil of the Saxons was called 
Vola, is a poem given in an English translation by Turner, from 
whom, with Bede, Ellis, Tooke, and Campbell, I have derived much 
># of my information on this subject of Saxon literature. It is a rhap- 
sody on the creation according to the Saxon notions of it, and the 
first lessons of wisdom given to man from his maker. The succes- 
sive generations, with their history, are introduced, but only as a 
landscape is seen by the transitory flashes of the lightning amid the 
darkness of the storm. The Welch wrote at the same time with 
abruptness, and threw the fire and fanaticism of their Druids into 
the form of some wild and magic strain. 

True poetry cannot exist until there is a considerable degree of 
mental cultivation in the bard who makes it. Men must think and 
feel, and reason, too, from cause to effect, before any delicacies of 
poetry can be developed ; but the strong ebullitions of genius raving 
to soar to the regions of light and futurity, are scattered through the 
early ages of poetry; and time gives these productions, perhaps, an 
interest beyond their real merits. 

The English language is now so enriched from the sources I have 
mentioned, and other sources more recondite, and also from some 
more recently made contributions to our stock of words, particularly 
in terms of banking, trade, and revenue, that it may challenge any 
other language to show more words of clear and definite significa- 
tions, than we have legitimatized and secured. The terms of art 
are every day increasing, as well as those of the sciences, and are 
constantly added for common use to our vocabulary. These, in ge- 
neral, have been formed by new applications of old words to the 
subjects, or by new compounds made to convey the idea of the use 
of the invention. 

The English language is full of strength. There are no feeble 
words in it, such as are often made by an effeminate people; but 
every part of the fabric is of good old materials or approved new 
ones. There is no thought, or shade of a thought, that the English 
language is not capable of conveying to the mind, if used by a judi- 
cious, learned, and spirited writer. In the use of language to gain, 
or to defend a point, much depends upon the skill and judgement of 
the writer or speaker. The vocabulary of angels would fail to pro- 
pagate a thought, that would wake the genius or mend the heart, 
in the mouth of dulness or apathy. The soul of the writer or 
speaker must breathe into his language the breath of life. The 
earthly particles must be melted, as it were, into the ethereal, to give 
a composition the spirit of intelligence and genius. The following 
extracts, the first from Shakspeare, and the other from MiltoH, show 
B2 3 



18 LECTURES ON 

the natural strength of the English language; for without any ap« 
parent effort, or artful selection, the words admirably convey the 
elevated thoughts which the authors had m their minds, and intend- 
ed to put into an imperishable form. 

" The cloud-capt towers^ the gorgeous palaces, 
The solemn temples, the great globe itself; 
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, 
And, like the baseless fabric of a vision. 

Leave not a wreck behind." 

Tempest^ Act iv. Scene 4. 

" For in those days might only shall be admir'd, 
And valour an heroic virtue call'd : 
To overcome in battle, and subdue 
Nations, and bring home spoils with infinite 
Manslaughter, shall be held the highest pitch 
Of human glory, and for glory done 
Of triumph, to be styl'd great conquerors, 
Patrons of mankind, gods, and sons of gods. 
Destroyers rightlier call'd, and plagues of men. 
Thus fame shall be achieved, renown on earth, 
And what most merits fame in silence hid." 

Milton, b. xi. 

The beauty of the English language is conspicuous in English 
poetry and prose. It is fortunate for our vernacular, that the lan- 
guage of poetry does not differ, except in a few words, and perhaps 
in no one, from our prose; for in such a formation of language, all 
that is gained in the interchange with other nations in prose, is 
transferred to verse; and all that is created or refined by verse, is 
given over to prose, after due trial and final judgement of its use or 
beauty, at the tribunal of public criticism. The following poem is 
a specimen of that powerful, graceful beauty, which excites admira- 
tion for its elegance, and respect for its strength. It seems to come 
upon us with that calmness and divinity which it describes in the 
god of wisdom and taste, in his easy victory over the Python. 
What a beautiful fable this is; it was made to show how easily re- 
finement and wisdom can overcome and destroy that monster of the 
literary world — a depraved taste. 

Prize Poem.— The Belvidere Apollo. (1812.) 

" Heard ye the arrow hurtle in the sky? 
Heard ye the dragon monster's deathful cry? 
In settled majesty of fierce ilisdain, 
Proud of his might, yet scornful of the slain, 



. AMERICAN LITERATURE. 1» 

The heavenly archer stands — no human birth, 

No perishable denizen of earth ! 

Youth blooms immortal in his beardless face, 

A god in strength, with more than god-like grace! 

All, all divine — no struggling muscle glows, 

Through heaving vein no mantling life-blood flows ; 

But animate with deity alone, 

In deathless glory lives the breathing stone. 

Bright-kindling with a conqueror's stem delight, 
His keen eye tracks the arrow's fateful flight ; 
Bums his indignant cheek with vengeful fire, 
And his lip quivers with insulting ire ; 
Firm-fix' d his tread, yet hght, as when on high 
He walks the impalpable and pathless sky ; 
The rich luxuriance of his hair, confined 
In graceful ringlets, wantons on the wind, 
That lifts in sport his mantles, drooping fold, 
Proud to display that form of faultless mould. 

Mighty Ephesian ! with an eagle's flight 
Thy proud soul mounted through the fields of light. 
Viewed the bright conclave of Heaven's blest abode, 
And the cold marble leapt to life a God : 
Contagious awe through breathless myriads ran, 
And nations bowed before the work of man. 
For mild he seemed as in Elysian bowers. 
Wasting in careless ease the joyous hours ; 
Haughty, as bards have sung, with princely sway. 
Curbing the fierce flame-breathing steeds of day ; 
Beauteous as vision seen in dreamy sleep 
By holy maid on Delphis' haunted steep ; 
'Mid the dim tvrflight of the laurel grove. 
Too fair to worship, too divine to love. 

Yet on that form, in wild delirious trance. 
With more than reverence gazed the maid of France ; 
Day after day the love-sick dreamer stood 
With him alone, nor thought it solitude ; 
To cherish grief, her task, her dearest care. 
Her one fond hope — to perish — or despair. 
Oft as the shining light her sight beguiled. 
Blushing she shrunk, and thought the marble smiled : 
Oft;, breathless Ustening, heard, or seemed to hear, 
A voice of musick melt upon the ear. 
Slowly she wan'd, and cold and senseless grown, 
Closed her dim eyes, herself benumbed to stone. 
Yet love in death a sickly strength suppUed, 
Once more she gaz'd, then feebly smiled, and died. 



20 LECTURES ON 

Sweetness in a language is intimately connected with beauty. 
Beauty may perhaps consist without sweetness; no one of taste would 
say that the head of Apollo was a sweet one, while all agree that the 
face of Venus is full of sweetness; yet, if beauty can exist without 
sweetness, tlie converse of the proposition would be offensive to taste 
and truth, to say that sweetness was ever found without beauty. 
The impression which beauty leaves on the mind, is pleasure and ad- 
miration; but when sweetness is superadded, the charm is increas- 
ed to love and rapture. I have mentioned images that strike the 
senses to illustrate those which are sentimental. This is the only 
method by which anything ethereal can be made to affect us forcibly, 
as we are now constituted. The dirge in Cymbeline is fuU of sweet- 
ness and delicacy. 

To fair Fidele's grassy tomb 

Soft maids and villeige hinds shall bring 
Each opening sweet of earliest bloom, 

And rifle all the breathing spring. 

No wailing ghost shall dare appear 

To vex with shrieks this quiet grove ; 
But shepherd lads assemble here, 

And melting virgins own their love. 

No wither' d vntch shall here be seen; 

No gobUns lead their nightly crew ; 
The female fays shall hamit the green, 

And dress thy grave with pearly dew ! 

The redbreast oft, at evening hours, 

Shall kindly lend his Uttle aid. 
With hoary moss, and gathered flowers, 

To deck the ground where thou art laid. 

When howling winds, and beating rain, 

In tempests shake thy sylvan cell ; 
Or 'midst the chase, on every plain, 

The tender thought on thee shall dwell ; 

Each lonely scene shall thee restore ; 

For thee the tear be duly shed ; 
Belov'd, till hfe can charm no more, 

And mourn' d, till Pity's self be dead. 

The wailing ghost — The withered witch — The howling 
winds, which at first thought seem to injure the loveliness of the 



. AMERICAN LITERATURE. 81 

picture, form a fine contrast to all the tender and affectionate images 
which are grouped around the grassy deatli-bed of beauty and in- 
nocence. The effect of this contrast is forcibly seen in the picture 
of Prospero, with the snow of many winters upon his reverend head, 
in the majesty of science and wisdom, and paternal affection, con- 
trasted with the manly youth of Ferdinand, and the delicacy and 
beauty of Miranda; and the finishing of the whole is the ugliness 
and ferocity of Sycorax, with her fiend-begotten Caliban, " whose 
nature nurture would not stick to." 

The majesty of the English language is conspicuous in the fol- 
lowing extract from Akenside : 

" Look then abroad through nature, to the range 

Of planets, suns, and adamantine spheres, 

Wheeling unshaken through the void immense ; 

And speak, O man ! does this capacious scene 

With half that kindling majesty dilate 

Thy strong conception, as when Brutus rose 

Refulgent from the stroke of Csesaf's fate 

Amid the crowd of patriots ; and his arm 

Aloft extending, like eternal Jove 

When guilt brings down the thunder, call'd aloud 

On Tully's name, and shook his crimson steel, 

And bade the father of his country hail ! 

For lo ! the tyrant prostrate on the dust, 

And Rome again is free !" 

The majesty of the language is conspicuous also in the following 
extract : 

" Different minds 

Incline to different objects : one pursues 

The vast alone, the wonderful, the vrild ; 

Another sighs for harmony, and grace. 

And gentlest beauty. Hence, when lightning fires 

The arch of Heaven, and thunders rock the ground ; 

When furious whirlwinds rend the howUng air, 

Aid ocean, groaning from his lowest bed, 

Heaves his tempestuous billows to the sky ; 

Amid the mighty uproar, while below 

The nations tremble, Shakspeare looks abroad 

From some high cUft superiour, and enjoys 

The elemental war." 

Our own writers furnish numerous specimens of the various cha- 
racteristicks of our language. The chaste, pure, classical language, 
abounds in Hamilton's prose, and Pierpont's poetry. For sweetness, 
we might look into Ames's prose, and Percival's verse. Robert 



22 LECTURES ON 

Treat Paine would furnish us with many sentences in strong lan- 
guage in both prose and verse. Dr. Dwight's works might also be 
mentioned as exhibiting a fine selection of words and phrases in 
connnuiiicating his thoughts. In fact, an hundred others among 
our distinguished writers might be quoted for our purpose, to illus- 
trate the statement that our language is copious, beautiful, sweet, 
majestick, strong, «Stc. but we will not at this time make these selec- 
tions, for my audience will probably call to mind as many instances 
of all these traits in our writers as I can. 

I need not dwell long on the importance of cultivating our mother 
tongue, nor attempt to prove that it is becoming the triumphant 
language of mankind, -when it is knowTi to all that it is now spoken 
by fifty millions of enlightened freemen, who keep it purer than that 
used by any other nation; and that the number now, to whom it is 
vernacular, is five fold greater than it was fifty years ago. As Em- 
pire travels westward with us, or over the immense plains of Asia 
with the English, this language, whose origin and history, copious- 
ness, strength, beauty, sweetness, and importance, have occupied our 
past hour, will carry with it the blessings of sound political and 
civil institutions, the blessings of letters and science, of virtue and 
religion. 

As our knowledge, political, civil, and religious, expands, and our 
arts and sciences are extended; and the comforts and luxuries of 
life increase, words of new significations and aptitude are required 
to correspond with these advancements. A poverty of words is a 
sure sign of poverty of thought in those who have had advantages 
to acquire a full supply. Not only the progress of knowledge, but 
the fashion of society, has its influence over language; and the time 
has arrived with us, that no word found in the Dictionary of our 
language, that is used with good taste and judgement, can be consi- 
dered as too learned for the social circle. It is neither affectation or 
pedantry to use any proper word in a proper sense. There is too 
much information diffused through the country, to require that con- 
descension m the learned which strives to be simple and plain in 
language in order to accommodate their hearers. The vocabulary 
of the scholar and the publick man, should be opulent and well ar- 
ranged. There should be no " res angusta domi" for an excuse for 
himself to the publick, in his possession of the stores of his mother 
tongue. These are at his command. Every one's warehouse of words 
should not only be well stocked, but well sorted and arranged. 
Every synonyme should be classed for a ready selection. Still, how- 
ever, I woidd not be understood to commend that fastidiousness 
that wakes to contentious valour in defence of an accent, or strives 
to martyrdom for the support of the pronunciation of a doubtfu] 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 23 

word or syllable. No, it is only that free, generous, tasteful use of 
language, and common regard to a just pronunciation, which shows 
at once the affluence of thought, and the extent and polish of educa- 
tion, that I contend for. The conversation of the social circle is now 
often rich and elegant, and even when it relaxes to trifling and play- 
fulness. Formerly there was a great difference between the written 
language and that used in common conversation ; but these styles 
are more nearly assimilated, and both have been benefitted by it. 
Eloquence has ceased to strut in corsets, and to walk only in 
measured steps, and to speak only in affected cadences. Nature has 
assumed her sway, and ease and grace prevail. Strong, beautiful, 
neat, or delicate thouglits, should each have their appropriate dress. 
The lion's skin to throw loosely over the shoulders, the succinct tu- 
nick, the flowing toga, the sweeping robe, and the transparent veil, 
should all be ready for clothing for the thoughts of the conversa- 
tionist, the poet, or the orator, as these thoughts arise in their ima- 
ginations, and are marshalled forth by their understandings for use 
and display. Words should be the vassals of the mind, at tlie call 
of memory; but at the same time should always, like the slaves of 
the faithful, be used only in rigid justness or innocent familiarity. 
Once profaned by an indecent use, their character is degraded for 
ever. Necessity is the only true mother of invention in words as 
well as in other things: wit and profligacy often degi-ade appropri- 
ate words by indelicate uses. The languages of polished nations 
alone are liable to this misuse or profanation. It is in the reckless 
plenitude of genius that words are violated. A host of instances 
might be adduced to illustrate my meaning, if it were proper; but 
this is rather a subject for the eye, or the imagination, than the ear. 
One or two instances might be named. 

The voluptuaries of the Court of Louis 14th, called a pure white 
wine Virginis Lac ; this was going far enough in all conscience ; but 
another of a purple colour they called Lacliryma Christi. To com- 
pare the ruddy, joyous drops of the wine-cup, to the tears of a suf- 
fering Saviour, was reaching the confines of blasphemy. 

Every pure and elegant mind ought to rejoice in a freedom from 
the fetters of bigotry and the prudery of excessive puritanism ; but 
should never relax his vigils over the chastity of his mother tongue. 
Morals depend more on taste, than philosophy, in her analysis of the 
human character, is willing to allow ; but no one will deny the cor- 
rectness of the maxim of inspiration, that " words fitly spoken 
are like apples of gold in pictures of silver.'''' 

For many centuries, in the early history of letters, much time 
and labour were spent by the industrious and learned, in making 
Lexicons, Dictionaries, Vocabularies, and Glossaries, or works on 



U LECTURES ON 

languages, by whatever name the compilers chose to give them. 
They vi^ere of great use to the M^orld in abbreviating the labour of 
acquiring a knoM^ledge of languages. Perhaps, the first that was 
put into a good form for the learner, and for the learned, was an 
Arabick dictionary, made in the ninth century by the scholars of 
Grand Cairo ; a great number of Greek lexicons and glossaries had 
preceded it. This work, it is said by their historians, was done by 
order of the Caliph, who was supervisor as weU as patron of the 
work. At the same time, or soon afterwards, an encyclopedia was 
compiled at the same place, which was unquestionably the first of 
its kind ever known. Other nations soon followed the example ; and 
the scholar who had pecuniary means might have had the advan- 
tages of such a work, but he alone ; and it was not until after the art 
of printing was discovered, about the middle of the fifteenth cen- 
tury, that dictionaries came into common use. From this there 
was a succession of dictionaries in our vernacidar, down to Johnson, 
who set himself to the task with a gigantick genius and a philosophick 
mind ; well read in all the best works in the English language, with 
a memory stored with apt examples and felicitous illustrations, and 
patient of the most tedious details, he wrought day and night, for 
many years, in the deep mines of etymology ; and by analysis and 
comparison, solved a thousand difficulties that his predecessors were 
unable to grapple with. He had neither the aid of the learned or 
the opulent, and when his work was finished, aU who would have 
been pleased with his fame, or benefitted by the emoluments of his 
pains, had gone to another world. Such are the common results of 
the exertions of genius and learning. 

On this great work all the lexicographers of our vernacular have 
modelled their labours ; and if, at times, they have added or amended, 
still their ground-work was Johnson. The learned Todd has, wit^ 
great labour, brought Johnson down to the present day, with many 
additions and some corrections. 

It has fallen to the lot of an American scholar to follow those 
great men with success. To this mighty task he has devoted the 
flower of his youth, the prime of his manhood, and the wisdom of 
the gray head : Webster's dictionary has been the labour of nearly 
half a century. Like the Arabick dictionary, it might well be called 
"an ocean of words," for it contains about seventy thousand. 
About eight thousand of these, in common use, are derived from the 
Greek, Latin, and French languages, and about forty thousand from 
the Saxon and other kindred languages of the North, with the He- 
brew, Arabick, Sanscrit, Coptick, &c. of eastern origin. The re- 
mainder of the words in his dictionary have been taken from the 
arts, sciences, and the learned professions, which are, in general, 



' AMERICAN LITERATURE. 25 

compounds from various languages. Although grown old, and ex- 
hausted by long and intense application, by frequent disappoint- 
ments, by coarse criticisms, petty insults, and heavy expenditures, 
yet he does not, like his great prototype, dismiss his work with 
frig-id indifference ; he is not solitary or disconsolate, for he has 
those about him, and connected with him, who can rejoice in his 
fame, and share his rewards. 

The study of the languages is not, in this country, confined to a 
few learned men, but is pursued by many of those engaged in pro- 
fessional business. Duponceau and Pickering, have written learn- 
edly on this subject; and many others, who have as yet offered 
nothing to the public, have with them, in addition to their labours 
in the common track, made considerable progress in the examina- 
tion of the languages spoken by the various tribes of Nf^rth Amer- 
ican Indians ; and it is now fully believed, that this examination 
will afford the only clue to their origin, if ever one is found. 

The Indians themselves are becoming philologists and gram- 
marians, and exciting the wonder of the world, by the invention of 
letters. The invention of the Cherokee alphabet, has excited the 
astonishment of the philosopher in this country and in Europe ; 
but as I have not as yet seen any satisfactory account of the pro- 
gress and history of this greatest effort of genius of the present day, 
I will state what I know of it, from the lips of the inventor himself. 

In the winter of 1828, a delegation of the Cherokees visited the 
city of Washington, in order to make a treaty with the United 
States, and among them was See-quah-yah, the inventor of the Che- 
rokee alphabet. His English name was George Guess ; he was a 
. half-blood ; but had never, from his own account, spoken a single 
word of English up to the time of his invention, nor since. Prompt- 
ii ed by my own curiosity, and urged by several literary friends, I 
■"applied to See-quah-jah, through the medium of two interpreters, 
one a half-blood, Capt. Rogers, and the other a full-blood chief, 
whose assumed English name was John Maw, to relate to me, as 
minutely as possible, the m.ental operations and aU the facts in his 
discovery. He cheerfully complied with my request, and gave very 
deliberate and satisfactory answers to every question ; and was 
at the same time careful to know from the interpreters if I distinctly 
understood his answers. No stoick could have been more grave in 
his demeanour than was See-quah-yah ; he pondered, according to 
the Indian custom, for a considerable time after each question was 
put, before he made his reply, and often took a whiff of his calumet, 
while reflecting on an answer. The details of the examination are 
too long for the closing paragraph of this lecture ; but the substance 
of it was this : That he, See-quah-yah, was now about sixty-five 
C 3 



26 LECTURES ON 

years old, but could not precisely say ; that in early life he was gay 
and talkative ; and although he never attempted to speak in Council 
but once, yet was often, from the strength of his memory, his easy 
colloquial powers, and ready command of his vernacular, story-teller 
of the convivial party. His reputation for talents of every kind gave 
'him some distinction when he was quite young, so long ago as St. 
Clair's defeat. In this campaign, or some one that soon followed it, 
a letter was found on the person of a prisoner, which was wrongly 
read by him to the Indians. In some of their deliberations on this 
subject, the question arose among them, whether this mysterious 
power of the talking leaf, was the gift of the Great Spirit to the 
white man, or a discovery of the white man himself? Most of his 
companions were of the former opinion, while he as strenuously 
maintained the latter. This frequently became a subject of con- 
templation with him afterwards, as well as many other things which 
he knew, or had heard, that the white man could do ; but he never 
sat down seriously to reflect on the subject, until a s^velling on his 
knee confined him to his cabin, and which at length made him a 
cripple for life, by shortening the diseased leg. Deprived of the ex- 
citements of war, and the pleasures of the chase, in the long nights 
of his confinement, his mind was again directed to the mystery of 
the power of speaking by letters. The very name of which, of 
course, was not to be fovmd in his language. From the cries of wild 
beasts, from the talents of the mocking-bird, from the voices of his 
children sind his companions, he knew that feelings and passions 
were conveyed by different sounds, from one intelligent being to 
another. The thought struck him to try to ascertain all the sounds 
in the Cherokee language. His own ear was not remarkably dis- 
criminating, and he called to his aid the more acute ears of his wife 
and children. He found great assistance from them. When he 
thought that he had distinguished all the different sounds in their 
language, he attempted to use pictorial signs, images of birds and 
beasts, to convey these sounds to others, or to mark them in his ov/n 
mind. He soon dropped this method, as difhcult or impossible, and 
tried arbitrary signs, without any regard to appearances, except 
such as might assist him in recollecting them, and distinguishing 
them from each other. At first, these signs were very numerous ; and 
when he got so far as to think his invention was nearly accomplish- 
ed, he had about two hundred characters in his Alphabet. By the 
aid of his daughter, who seemed to enter in the genius of his 
labours, he reduced them, at last, to eighty -six, the number he now 
uses. He then set to work to make these characters more comely 
to the eye, and succeeded. As yet he had not the knowledge of the 
pen as an instrument, but made his characters on a piece of bark, 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 27 

with a knife or nail. At this time he sent to the Indian agent, or 
some trader in the nation, for paper and pen. His ink was easily- 
made from some of the bark of the forest trees, whose colouring 
properties he had previously known ; and after seeing the construc- 
tion of the pen, he soon learnt to make one ; but at first he made it 
without a slit ; this inconvenience was, however, quickly removed 
by his sagacity. His next difficulty was to make his invention 
known to his countrymen ; for by this time he had become so ab- 
stracted from his tribe and their usual pursuits, that he was viewed 
with an eye of suspicion. His former companions passed his wig- 
wam without entering it, and mentioned his name as one who was 
practising improper spells, for notoriety or mischievous purposes; 
and he seems to think that he should have been hardly dealt with, if 
his docile and unambitious disposition had not been so generally 
acknowledged by his tribe. At length he summoned some of the 
most distinguished of his nation, in order to make his communica- 
tion to them — and after giving them the best explanation of his dis- 
covery that he could, stripping it of all supernatural influence, he 
proceeded to demonstrate to them, in good earnest, that he had made 
a discovery. His daughter, who was now his only pupil, was or- 
dered to go out of hearing, while he requested his friends to name a 
word or sentiment which he put down, and then she was called in 
and read it to them; then the father retired, and the daughter 
wrote ; the Indians were wonder struck ; but not entirely satisfied. 
See-quah-yah then proposed, that the tribe should select several 
youths from among their brightest young men, that he might com- 
municate the mystery to them. This was at length agreed to, al- 
though there was some lurking suspicion of necromancy in the 
whole business. John Maw, (his Indian name I have forgotten,) a 
full-blood, with several others, were selected for this purpose. The 
tribes watched the youths for several months with anxiety ; and 
when they offered themselves for examination, the feelings of all 
were wrought up to the highest pitch. The youths were separated 
from their master, and from each other, and watched with great care. 
The uninitiated directed what the master and pupil should write 
lo each other, and these tests were varied in such a manner, as not 
only to destroy their infidelity, but most firmly to fix their faith. 
The Indians, on this, ordered a great feast, and made See-quah-yah 
conspicuous at it. How nearly is man alike in every age I Pytha- 
goras did the same on the discovery of an important principle in 
geometry. See-quah-yah became at once school-master, professor, 
philosopher, and a chief. His countrymen were proud of his 
talents, and held him in reverence as one favoured by the Great 
Spirit. The inventions of early times were shrouded in mystery. 



28 LECTURES ON 

See-quah-yah disdained all quackery. He did not stop here, but 
carried his discoveries to numbers. He of course knew nothing of 
the Arabick digits, nor of the power of Roman letters in the science. 
The Cherokees had mental numerals to one hundred, and had 
words for all numbers up to that ; but they had no signs or characters 
to assist them in enumerating, adding, subtracting, multiplying, or 
dividing. He reflected upon this until he had created their element- 
ary principle in his mind; but he was at first obliged to make words 
to express his meaning, and then signs to explain it. By this pro- 
cess he soon had a clear conception of numbers up to a million. 
His great difficulty was at the threshold, to fix the powers of his 
signs according to their places. "When this was overcome, his next 
step was in adding up his different numbers in order to put down 
the fraction of the decimal, and give the whole number to his next 
place. But when I knew him, he had overcome all these difficulties, 
and was quite a ready arithmetician in the fundamental rules. 
This was the result of my interview ; and I can safely say, that I 
have seldom met a man of more shrewdness than See-quah-yah. 
He adhered to all the customs of his country ; and when his asso- 
ciate chiefs on the mission assumed our costume, he was dressed in 
all respects like an Indian. See-quah-yah is a man of diversified 
talents ; he passes from metaphysical and philosophical investiga- 
tion to mechanical occupations, with the greatest ease. The only 
practical mechanics he was acquainted with, were a few bungling 
blacksmiths, who could make a rough tomahawk, or tinker the lock 
of a rifle ; yet he became a white and silver smith, without any in- 
struction, and made spurs and silver spoons with neatness and 
skill, to the great admiration of people of the Cherokee nation. 
See-quah-yah has also a great taste for painting. He mixes his 
colours with skill ; taking all the art and science of his tribe upon 
the subject, he added to it many chemical experiments of his own, 
and some of them were very successful, and would be worth being 
known to our painters. For his drawings he had no model but 
what nature furnished, and he often copied them with astonishing 
faithfulness. His resemblances of the human form, it is true, are 
coarse, but often spirited and correct ; and he gave action, and some- 
times grace, to his representations of animals. He had never seen 
a camel hair pencil, when he made use of the hair of wild animals 
for his brushes. Some of his productions discover a considerable 
practical knowledge of perspective ; but he could not have formed 
rules for this. The painters in the early ages were many years 
coming to a knowledge of this part of their art ; and even now they 
are more successful in the art than perfect in the rules of it. The 

manners of the American Cadmus are the most easy, and his habits 

r 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 29 

those of the most assiduous scholar, and his disposition is more 
lively than that of any Indian I ever saw. He understood and felt 
the advantages the white man had long enjoyed, of having the ac- 
cumulations of every branch of knowledge, from generation to ge- 
neration, by means of a A\Titten language, while the red man could 
only commit his thoughts to uncertain tradition. He reasoned cor- 
rectly, when he urged this to his friends as the cause why the red 
man had made so few advances in knowledge in comparison with 
us ; and to remedy this was one of his great aims, and one which he 
has accomplished beyond that of any other man living, or perhaps 
any other who ever existed in a rude state of nature. 

It perhaps may not be known that the government of the United 
States had a fount of types cast for his alphabet ; and that a news- 
paper, printed partly in the Cherokee language, and partly in the 
English, has been established at New Echota, and is characterized 
by decency and good sense ; and thus many of the Cherokees are 
able to read both languages. After putting these remarks to paper, 
I had the pleasure of seeing the head chief of the Cherokees, who 
confirmed the statement of See-quah-yah, and added, that he was an 
Indian of the strictest veracity and sobriety. The western wilder- 
ness is not only to blossom like the rose ; but there, man has started 
up, and proved that he has not degenerated since the primitive days 
of Cecrops, and the romantic ages of wonderful effort and god-like 
renown. 



— Q©©— 



LECTURE II. 



" They say that thou wert lovely from thy birth, 
Of glorious parents." 

The literature of a nation, thoroughly studied, affords the best 
criterion, by which may be judged the principles and powers of a 
people, as well as their rank in the scale of civilization : I mean 
literature in its extended sense. In endeavouring to execute my 
task, I shall show those men, and something of their works, who 
have added to the stock of our learning, from time to time ; or those 
who, by their eloquence or industry in teaching, or by the produc- 
tions of their pens, have left us an account of the deeds of their 
predecessors or contemporaries. I shall divide our history into 
C2 



30 LECTURES ON 

four periods, of half a century each, for the sake of more easily mana- 
ging my subject. These periods are, indeed, arbitrary, it may be said, 
and will not correspond with any remarkable events in politicks or 
literature. This is very true ; but still the division may aid my la- 
bours. The skilful painter of a panorama, divides his canvass into 
portions before he takes up the pencil ; but these mechanical 
arrangements are not seen when the whole surface glows with life 
and action. A writer may profit by such an example. 

All civilized nations have made great exertions, in some period of 
their history, to discover the origin of their literature, and have 
rejoiced at every successful effort to trace up and open the fountains, 
from whence the streams of knowledge have issued to gladden suc- 
cessive generations. With many matters of well authenticated fact, 
there has been much of fable and conjecture commingled. The 
farthest East, the birth-place of science and letters, has been over- 
hung with clouds for thirty centuries ; and if, for a moment, the eye 
of genius has sometimes attempted to pierce them, it succeeded for 
a moment only, and the splendid vision it unfolded was soon covered 
again with a thicker mantle. 

Even Greece, so dear to us by many sweet associations, can boast 
of but little accuracy in her early history ; she has often substituted 
for truth, the loveliest visions of fancy, and given the history of her 
earliest worthies, from golden streams of fiction, rather than from 
a series of facts. The portraits of heroes and demigods, have 
generally been shown in the twilight of history, and the glories of 
their acts have been seen in the faint rays of the sun ; while men, 
mere men, have only been exhibited in the fulness of the perfect day. 
But in every age there has been a disposition to know much of for- 
mer times ; the persons, dress, minds, manners, and modes of 
thinking, of those of former days, are sought after by us ; and no 
subject delights us more than a history of their intellectual trea- 
sures. This remark would have applied with equal effect to our 
own country, if we had not been under the erroneous impression, 
that after the most painful search, nothing of value could be found. 

In the early ages, the curious examined nature in all her virgin 
loveliness ; and her beautiful forms made indelible impressions upon 
the minds of those enamoured of her charms. We always love to 
look back and contemplate things as they Avere. In the philoso- 
phical days of Pericles, the Athenians went back with enthusiasm 
to the days of Homer ; and when the Thebans were in a high state 
of military discipline, and not so much depended upon individual 
prowess as in the earlier ages of their warfare, and every event was 
more a matter of calculation, the great objects of their admiration 
were placed in a more romantick period. They went back to the 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 31 

Trojan war ; when hand to hand, and foot to foot, the sons of gods 
contended in mortal strife, and fought and bled for the possession 
of the daughters of men, as well as their own individual fame, 
governed by such passions as are found in the breasts of mortal men 
now-a-days. But if fiction be mingled Avith history, and it is im- 
possible to make the great men of antiquity appear as they really 
were, still it is deliglitful to look back upon ages past, and catch a 
glimpse of them through the medium of their thoughts and opi- 
nions, which do not deceive us, if their history does. This we have 
a right to do ; it is no Avaste of time, no dereliction of duty, and is 
not injuring any one, if Ave do not dAvell on them so long as to for- 
get the opinions and the subjects of contemplation of the great men 
of our own times. A man's business, most assuredly, is Avith those 
about him ; but it is for the interest of himself, and those around 
him, to draAv knoAvledge and instruction from those Avho have gone 
before him. The industrious husbandman Avho rises early, may, 
before he enters his fields to labour in the furroAv, or to gather in his 
harvest, indulge himself for a fcAV moments in turning to the rising 
sun, and in extending his vicAV over the distant landscape to enjoy 
the sight of the afar-off mountain, the floAving stream, or the lofty 
spire ; or may, if his taste should so direct him, cast a glance at the 
solemn mansions of the dead, as the rays of light fall on their 
crumbling tombs. Such contemplations Avill not enfeeble his hands, 
or sicken his heart, or make him go reluctantly to his labours ; no, 
it will teach him what he is, and Avhat he has to do, and the neces- 
sity of setting about it, that his task may be finished in season, 
before the night cometh in which no man can work. 

The lover of literature, Avho confines himself to the smallest cor- 
ner of the vineyard, may, strange as it may seem, refresh himself 
by vieAving the fields where others have toiled through many a 
Aveary day. The stores of literature lie before him, and from Avhich 
he may collect, for use, many lessons of wisdom ; for literature, in its 
proper sense, is the transcript of the head and the heart of man, in 
the thoughts of the one and the Avorkings of the other, in every age 
of his existence : all his sufferings, his joys, his hopes, his reason- 
ings, his anticipations, and even his imaginings, belong to the litera- 
ture of the Avorld ; yea, more — the descriptions of his country, of 
his kindred and friends ; of the floAvers on Avhich he treads, and of 
the fountains Avhich floAv at his feet, and the dcAvs Avhich fall on his 
head, and the atmosphere Avhich he breathes, are incorporated in his 
literature. Thus, thoughts embalmed in Avords, and principles in 
thoughts and expressions, make the heir-looms of one generation 
for another, and to which something is added every day. 

It is by literature that we live, as it Avere, in the ages past as well 



I 



^ 



32 LECTURES ON 

as in the present. The well educated man brings into the narrow 
compass of human life the knowledge of many years, and examines 
in a single day the events of centuries. He travels bacli to the wis- 
dom of Egypt, and measures the mind and weighs the science of 
those who erected the pyramids and etched the hieroglyphics upon 
them. He dwells upon the literature of the Hebrews, and reads in 
the books they have left an instructive lesson of human powers and 
of human virtues and frailties ; and enjoys the verses of the poets 
who sang the glories of that God who delivered them from the 
yoke of Egypt and the house of bondage ; and where can be found 
pictures of a brighter colouring, or flowers of a sweeter flavour ? 
In these early writings, all the images at once strike the mind as na- 
tural, and all the sentiments flow directly from the heart. Their 
religion, their morals, their whole history, are directly before us, and 
are monuments of intellect that rise sublimely in the lapse of cen- 
turies, a wonder to man. 

The Greeks, too, drawing from the same fountains, have left us a 
literature which cannot be named without emotions of pleasure. 
Having a language of their own, their literature was seemingly indi- 
genous, however deeply they might have been indebted to the 
oriental store-houses that had been long open to them. The growth 
of Greek literature was like all other improvements, progressive ; 
for more than seven hundred years it was so. The Greeks were a 
peculiar people ; their taste was pure, and their discrimination ex- 
quisite ; and their understandings were the most acute of any people 
who have ever lived. Their language proves this ; for so well was it 
formed, that science and art are obliged to resort to it at this present 
day for terms to convey a proper idea of their inventions and im- 
provements. If we could forget their ambition, their volatility, and 
frequent acts of injustice, the reader might think that he was coursing 
over fields of light with beings of a superior creation, while he was 
making himself acquainted with Greek literature. The Greeks 
multiplied books to inform the judgment and warm tlie heart, and 
which gave immortality to themselves and information to all suc- 
ceeding generations. They created a code of laws for taste and the 
imagination. What can exceed their permanent fictions ? Their 
mountains still drop with honey, their springs still flow, and will 
forever flow, with waters impregnated with inspiration ; and their 
groves are still vocal with song. These creations of hterary taste 
are as imperishable as the mind of man ; and Attica may be, as it 
has been for ages, a den of pirates and a place of skulls — yet no mat- 
ter, a thousand successive pachas could not pluck from our minds 
the lovely country which literature created, and has preserved. In 
this formj and imder these fascinating guises, the people of that age 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 33 

found out a method by which they have preserved every shade of 
thought, and every change of feeUng, of which human nature is sus- 
ceptible. Fiction has given truth some of her ornaments ; but they 
were disposed of so tastefully, that she has been made more beauti- 
ful for receiving and wearing them. This is emphatically the 
triumph of letters ; but this triumph was not confined to that region 
alone ; letters assumed their empire not only at Athens, but also at 
Rome they claimed the wreaths of immortality. The conquests of 
that mistress of the world have passed away, but her literature 
never will. 

When the Greek was no longer a free man on his own soil, or was 
an exile in another land, and when the Roman eagles had drooped 
their wings, literature fomid her altars among the Arabs ; her form 
in some degree was altered, but her spirit was the same. This peo- 
ple threw all their fierce nature into the pursuits of learning, and 
surpassed their predecessors not only in works of imagination, but 
in those connected with the sciences. They spurned the narrow 
bounds of time and space, and imagined worlds of their own, and 
peopled them with matchless beings, unshackled by mortal func- 
tions, and human laws, and gave them powers and virtues of an 
angelick nature. But in the midst of these delightful fictions of 
literature, they forgot not the sciences, but pursued them with a 
poetick passion. They invented the laws of numbers, and proved the 
truth of them by the invention itself They pursued, through the 
alembick, the visionary doctrines of alchymy to the satisfactory re- 
sults of chymistry ; and, by experiments, brought science from the 
dreams of avarice to enlighten mankind. That warmth of imagi- 
nation which saw the times in the stars, found, by the light of the 
mind which accompanied it, the precise movements of the heavenly 
bodies ; and the delirium of the magician was changed to the de- 
vout reverence of the scientifick astronomer. The choicest names 
in the Arabic language were given to the constellations ; and these 
have been preserved by those who knew but little of their origin. 
The literature of Spain and Italy was the same in a new form, 
gaining something at times, but losing much of its ethereal fire in 
every new transformation. The Gauls and Britains at length came 
in for their share, and have repaid the world for what they received. 
The light they borrowed from the East is now reflected back, and the 
nations of Egypt are learning the arts of war and peace from those 
they once instructed. It would require volumes to trace the march 
of science and letters through every age in its progress round this 
world of ours. 

It may seem to some that I am taking a wide range in these re- 
marks, to get at our literature and science ; but there is not a page 

5 



3i LECTURES ON 

of it, however humble, that is not indebted to every one of these 
sources for some thought, word, or expression. The literature of the 
present day is made, in a good degree, out of the ruins of the litera- 
ture of former ages. There are words in our vernacular from the 
Arabick, the Hebrew, the Coptick, the Greek, and Latin, and many 
other languages ; our arts, too, claim a lineal kindred, and our num- 
bers are theirs unchanged. And shall we say that our literature is 
nothing, because we have not in it the production of numerous cen- 
turies ? Shall we, Avho have inherited all these spoils of time, conti- 
nue to avow our poverty, merely because we do not Avish to examine 
our treasures ? Or shall we, because others possess more, think and 
say that we have nothing ? No man, when the question is put to 
him, will acknowledge that he is Avilling that we should be so supine 
or neglectful. What then is to be done ? "Why, there is but one 
course to take in this business. In the first place, examine thoroughly 
into what we have had of learning among us ; in Avhat shapes it has 
appeared ; of what utility it has been to the country ; of what to 
mankind at large. And how is this to be done ? Why, in the way 
that knowledge has ever been acquired ; by painful investigation 
into the history of our country's mind, and the pursuits of that 
mind ; and this by carefully collecting Avhat fruits of it are left, and 
by examining its nature and growth. I grant that it is not to be 
accomplished in a day, or by one man, nor by one course of means. 
The historian must take his part ; the biographer his ; the antiqua- 
rian his ; and the lecturer his part of it also. This latter mode of 
diffusing instruction is not a novel one. Lectures Avere given on 
national literature and on national glory in the walks of the academy, 
in the groves of Egeira, and at the Olympic games. The doctrines 
of religion have been so promulgated ; those of the Old Testament 
and the New ; those also of the koran, and those of every sect in 
every age of the Avorld. The lecture gives in one respect a better 
form than history, to the knoAvledge we may communicate ; for the 
facts of the former may be interspersed Avith free and particular 
remarks on men and their deeds, as the lecturer passes on to mat- 
ters Avhich the historian cannot condescend to, consistent Avith the 
dignity of his subject. It is a better mode than that of the sermon, 
in some respects ; because a sermon is properly a discourse made on 
some particular subject, and, in general, draAvn from aphorisms or 
texts, and should be confined to them. The lecture is a better mode 
of conveying information than the oration, strictly speaking. The 
orator cannot, without compromising the dignity of his subject, 
descend to minute details; he is obliged to glance at these, and 
throAv them aside as understood by his audience, while the lecturer 
has a right to enter into the most minute details, to reason upon them 



' AMERICAN LITERATURE. 35 

when he chooses, and to draw inferences from such axioms and 
principles as may cliance to come in his way. The lecturer has a 
right to the same ornaments as the orator ; the same facts as the 
historian ; the same minute relations as the biographer ; and the 
same moral strain as the sermonizer. It is difficult, most certainly, 
to pass from details to generalizing ; from figures of dates to figures 
of rhetorick, and still seem to preserve unity of design with proper 
effect ; yet it has been done by many, and of course the attempt is 
not preposterous. In the numerous literary and scientifick institu- 
tions in Germany, this mode of diffusing information is in general 
use, and is considered of high importance in the acquisition of 
knowledge. The habit is growing up in our seminaries, and will, I 
have no doubt, come into general use. It is not so much the mass of 
information that a well digested lecture contains on any subject of 
literature and science that renders it valuable ; the excellency con- 
sists, if it have any merit, in directing the mind to such topicks as are 
worthy of investigation at another time. 

The fields of literature have aptly been compared to a garden ; 
we walk through it and partake of its flowers and fruit. Such 
wanderings are delightful ; but how much more information might 
be obtained in the same time, if the exoticks were designated and 
separated from the native ; if the trivial and classical names of 
plants were given at the same time ; and the merely ornamental 
distinguished from those which combine both characteristicks. The 
lectures of Sir Joshua Reynolds are models of this species of com- 
position. But to return to the subject of my own exertions ; the 
literature of our country is incorporated with the character of our 
ancestors. In our own history, it is true, we cannot go back into 
regions of fiction, and indulge in the reveries of the imagination ; 
for solemn, well authenticated facts, meet us at every turn, and we 
must trace them from date to date, and from man to man. Still, the 
highway is full of subjects of deep interest, and the mind will find 
food for contemplation at every step. 

The spirit of inquiry had been abroad for more than a century 
previous to the first date in the history of these American colonies. 
The doctrine of civil and religious liberty had been broached and 
diffused. The light of science and reason, and the love of letters, 
were found in the ecclesiastical states ; and the sovereign pontiff 
Leo X. was among the great patrons of improvements, before our 
ancestors came to these shores. The German monks had com- 
menced the work of reforming the church, with an intelligence and 
an earnestness that baffled all control. The little republicks of 
Italy were contending with each other and the world, by exertions 
in favour of the arts and letters ; and the United Provinces of the 



36 LECTURES ON 

Netherlands were teaching the nations of Europe, that commerce 
and freedom, and the rights of man, were not the mere offspring of 
a heated imagination. Then the doctrines of a representative 
government were beginning to be understood and valued; and 
amid the storm of contending factions, the principles of civil and 
religious liberty were seen to be taking root. England, after strug- 
gling with the strength of Spain, was rising in power and influence, 
and advancing, even by her acts of persecution, the progress of 
liberty. At this moment, the people in England felt more than they 
dared to express, and sighed for more than they enjoyed. Some 
were ready to emigrate from a love of change and a spirit of enter- 
prise ; while others were anxious to find an asylum from religious 
persecution. 

That the end depends on the beginning — " Finis origine 
pendet"— is an axiom more applicable, if possible, to nations than 
to individuals. This country had an auspicious beginning, when 
considered in connexion with its destinies. It has been held as true 
to history, that nations have their rise and decline in some regard 
to centuries, as. the human constitution to shorter periods of time. 
History does indeed produce some examples to illustrate this posi- 
tion ; but their beginnings and their elements were different from 
those which are found in our history. Our beginnings were indeed 
different from those of other nations in many respects ; we did not 
pass through the long and painful stages of civilization, from the 
dawn of knowledge to the full day of light, but commenced with 
the possession of all the knowledge which had been left by departed 
nations, or treasured up in later times. Our ancestors came not to 
this country as the savage hordes of the north came down upon the 
cultivated grounds of Italy ; who took possession of the tasteful 
villas, the vine-covered hills, the magnificent palaces, and the superb 
temples; and subdued by the charms of voluptuousness, and the 
sweets of refinement, grew pliant, tasteful, and effeminate, and well 
informed; and throwing aside their swords and coats of mail, 
seized the pencil, the chisel, and the lute, and made an abode for the 
graces in the bosom of the arts. 

Our ancestors were not, like some colonists, disgorged from the 
mother country to keep the remaining population sound and pure; 
they were not a surplus mass thrown off to prevent national apo- 
plexy, or political spasms ; such a population as sometimes Avent 
from Attica to take possession of the islands in the numerous seas 
about them, or to the more distant shores of Africa ; nor were they 
sent by the parent country to extend her commerce, or to gain a 
footing on, or near, the territories of other nations. 

They did not come to this country as the Spanish and French 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 37 

colonists to the " summer isles," allured by the golden dreams of 
avarice, or by the glowing description of the luxuriance of the soil, 
abounding in perpetual fruits and flowers; an earthly paradise, 
teeming with all that could satisfy the appetite or regale the senses ; 
which for centuries have been the abodes of luxury, superstition, 
profligacy, and crime. No ; the sober calculations of forming a 
thrifty settlement, which Avould make a good home for themselves 
and their descendants, operated upon some of tlie early colonists 
of this country. A spirit of enterprise natural to enlightened men, 
induced others to come and see, and in doing this, they became at- 
tached and fixed to these shores Avhich their posterity now inhabit. 
Others had different motives for emigration ; a love of freedom in 
thought and speech. They were fully sensible of their situation. 
They could not anticipate all the occurrences which might happen 
in their destinies, but they were determined to commence upon the- 
broad principle, that knowledge and virtue are the pillars of power 
and security in every national code. They saw physical means 
about them for an almost interminable increase of population. 
The sea was on one side, and boundless forests on the other. Navi- 
gable rivers were flowing into the oceans. Nothing but a thinly 
scattered race of rude men stood in their way to the founding of an 
empire larger than the world had ever seen. Nature seemed to 
have waited from her birth until this hour for their coming, to give 
them possession of her bounties. This was the place for contem- 
plation, and a place to originate a new course of thoughts upon 
political and civil liberty. There were, in these retreats, no shouts 
of the conqueror, no moans of the conquered ; tlie time resembled 
the cool of the evening, and the place the abode of innocence, Avhen 
and where other beings were at rest, and God walked with man in 
his primeval state. Every thing, in America, was to be begun, and 
every thing seemed to depend on themselves ; with this happy differ- 
ence, however, between us and those in paradise, for our safety and 
happiness were to depend upon eating freely of the tree of know- 
ledge, which was forbidden to him who first sprang from the dust 
of the earth. Here was offered the opportunity to cultivate the 
mind without the trammels and fetters which embarrass and bind 
those born in aged and decaying communities. Here, plains, and 
vales, and hills, offered opportunities for all the experiments of agri- 
culture. No agrarian law was needed to give men an equality; 
there was one passed already by nature without stint. The sites 
for cities were unoccupied; and they exercised their judgments 
upon this subject of a proper place to build them, without statutes 
or restraints. The political compact was to be formed and altered 
as the covenanters could agree ; for there was no other lawgiver 
D 



38 LECTURES ON 

than their own understandings ; no Solom but their own wisdom, 
no lyycurg'uses but the severe discussions of their own judgements. 
There was no syren to allure them from their duties to the rocks on 
which they might split ; no soft laps of pleasure on which they 
might sleep until their locks of strength were shorn. There were 
no beds of flowers beneath which the serpents flattery and fashion 
might glide to wound their naked feet with sharp stings. Indolence 
to them would have been death ; and labour, that supposed curse on 
man, was a blessing. Thus stripped of every shackle, they began 
their work of founding an empire. By the lights emitted from their 
minds shall we trace the path they pursued, and the deeds they 
performed. I'he light of the sun passes away with the going down 
of the same ; but the accumulated light of successive ages of intel- 
lect, like the precious stones which adorn the city of God, chases 
away all darkness, and beams in eternal splendour. 

But to descend from general remarks to more particular details, 
and follow our coimtry through its infancy, youth, and manhood, in 
the progress of knowledge and growth of intellect, is more distinctly 
the duties we prescribed as a course to pursue. 

In 1584, Sir Walter Raleigh visited this continent, and, naturally 
of a romantic turn, he gave such favourable accounts of it, as kept 
alive the disposition to emigrate ; and which were also sufficient to 
feed the hopes of speculators, who had turned their attention to 
this country. 

The first settlement of any importance was not, however, made for 
several years after his return. It took some time for the adventurers 
to pluck up at home, and transplant themselves in an almost un- 
known Avorld. 

In 1606 the Virginia settlement began. It was not at first pros- 
perous, but at length succeeded. The Dutch soon formed another 
settlement on the Hudson river. The next settlement was made at 
Plymouth by the pilgrims, as they were called by the historians of 
that day ; and which appropriate name they have ever since retained. 
The settlers of Virginia were allured by a love of gold, and the pros- 
pect of aggrandizement, to commence their labours. They had a 
leader in Capt. John Smith, more capable of commanding an enter- 
prise, than any person history or fable has ever described. 

He was acquainted with man in various countries, and had deeply 
read the human heart. Full of resources, he was capable of keeping 
his followers together, Avhen they would have deserted any other 
man ; and of supporting them, when under any other leader they 
would have starved. He did not confine his reserches to one small 
region,'but coursed along the seaboard to a high northern latitude ; 
and in the spirit of a great adventurer, drew a chart of his voyage, 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 39 

and set down most judicious remarks upon all he saw or did. Thus 
Virginia has the honour of a founder, who was at once a hero, a scho- 
lar, a man of science, and a man of the world ; and what is more, 
"a most right honest man.'''' 

The old world were soon made acquainted with the new, through 
the medium of his pen. He published his sixth voyage to Virginia 
in 1608 ; the first voyage to New England, with the old and new 
names, 1614 ; a relation of his second voyage to New-England, 
1615; and a description of the country, in 1617; New-England's 
trials, in 1620, and the general history of Virginia, New-England, 
and the Summer Isles. Purchas had previously published Smith's 
adventures in other parts of the world. 

Such a man might be supposed to have given an impulse to an 
infant settlement, beyond that of common adventurers ; but his fol- 
lowers wanted concert and sympathy with each other, and did not 
profit by his example and advice, as they ought to have done. 

The pilgrims were of a different class. They had left England 
for religious freedom ; had sojourned for a time in Holland ; and 
had ventured upon these shores, in an inclement season, buoyed up 
by the belief, that the God they worshipped would go before them, 
and help them in the wilderness. 

They had quarrelled with the church of England, and abhorred 
the church of Rome. From the austerity of their lives, and the 
simplicity of their manners and habits, they had in their own 
country received the name of Puritans, and had received it as a 
common appellation. The doctrines they professed, it is not my 
intention now to discuss, or offer an opinion upon them. No 
matter who were right or who were wrong ; these Puritans had 
opened a discussion, which ages will not close. A handful of men 
were landed on the coast of New-England, and as it often happens 
in human events, their A^ery feebleness became their protection. 
If their numbers had been considerable, the Indians would have 
been jealous of them, and associated then, as they did fifty years 
afterwards, to destroy them. They were at first to the natives 
rather subjects of curiosity than fear. These emigrants were a 
reading and a thinking people. They had been bred in the war- 
fare of religious controversy, and each, and all, could give the 
reasons for the faith within them. They had left numerous con- 
nexions in England, who were anxious to hear from them ; and re- 
ligious friends, who were desirous of knowing how they prospered 
in building up a church. 

On the return of every vessel to their native land, men, women, 
and children, wrote of all they had seen, suffered, or enjoyed, to the 
most minute circumstance. The extraordinary events of every 



40 LECTURES ON 

changing season, (and every event is extraordinary, when men are 
placed in new and singiilar situations,) were faithfully recorded by 
the leaders of this little band, v/ith the minuteness of a missionary 
journalist, of the character of which they were. Distance of place, 
and novelty of situation, give importance to trifles in themselves ; 
and all the small things have become great, from the greatness of 
their results. But from whatever cause it may have happened, the 
fact is certain, that every thing relating to these early settlers, has 
come down to us in the most authentic form. 

The next settlement, was that of the colony of Massachusetts 
Bay, in 1630. These people came able handed, with wealth and 
wise men, whose objects were of this world and the next united. 
They were men of distinction in their own land ; were also learned 
in all the wisdom of the age, and had well defined plans of religious 
associations and political institutions. They began their labours at 
once with courage, and pursued them with success. Here was at 
once opened the widest field for their exertions. They covdd here 
reason upon the divine right of kings without fear of the axe, and 
speak of the Pope without fear of the faggot. They construed the 
Magna Charta as they pleased, and interpreted the Scriptures as 
the Spirit gave them light and utterance. These second comers 
were in full communion, in most things, with the pilgrims ; and the 
course they followed was so nearly alike, that in the further view of 
our subject, we shall not make any discrimination between them, in 
a moral point of view ; for if these streams were not then united, 
they ran side by side until their waters commingled and flowed on 
together. 

I have said that they were acquainted with the literature of the 
age ; but the great fountain of their knowledge was the Bible. 
From this they drew their morals ; and where could purer morality 
be found ? From this they supplied their religious creed ; and from 
whence shall revelation come, if not from the sacred word ? From 
this they drew their political creed, that " those who ruled over men 
should be just, ruling in the fear of God.'''' From the scriptures 
they drew their knowledge of men ; and what history is so full of 
the workings of the human heart 1 From this book they derived 
their knowledge of their vernacular tongue ; and I would ask, what 
book there is to be found of purer English, than the translation of 
the Bible ? I am not contending for the accuracy of every trans- 
lation ; but it will not be denied, when I say, that a very copious 
vocabulary of good English words may be made from the pages of 
the common version of the Bible. 

Their philosophy of the mind, and their knowledge of the cha- 
racter of the Supreme Being, was also sought for in the hallowed 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 41 

pages of the Bible ; precisely where they ought to have been 
sought for. 

It is by example as well as precept that we profit in our lives and 
conversation, and what book can be found that will furnish us with 
so many models of meekness, patience, honourable feeling, gene- 
rosity, and affection, as the sacred volume ? It is full of historical 
detail, of incident, and dramatic effect. There is in it every species 
of writing from the simplest narrative to the most affecting tragedy. 
The sweetness of its verse, the loftiness of its poetry, the boldness 
of its dehneations, and, above all, the warmth of its descriptions, and 
the depth of its inspiration, ah conspire to suit, in some part or other, 
every taste and capacity. The child is delighted with reading the 
Bible. The young man, yea, all men look into it for lessons of elo- 
cution ; and the poets dwell upon it for models of composition. 
Many of our fathers read the scriptures in the original Hebrew ; for 
they were more than any other race of men of this country versed 
in all the niceties and beauties of that language. It is a primitive 
tongue, if any one can be called so, and it seems to carry you back 
to the elements of thinking and speaking. I perhaps dwell on this 
subject with enthusiastic fondness, but I love to come often and 
drink of the 

" Sweet waters welling from the sacred spring." 

The settlers of the province of Massachusetts Bay had as much 
piety, more learning, and more ambition, than the pilgrims ; they 
began stronger handed, and if with no more fixedness of purpose, 
certainly, with more clearness of design, than the pilgrims ; but no 
men could have higher claims to moral worth than the first settlers 
of Plymouth. The leader and first Governor of this bay province, 
was a lawyer, and a most eloquent and learned man. There was a 
precision and a legal cast of character in all their proceedings, which 
show that the framers of their laws were not unacquainted with the 
technical language of the English statute books, and the courts of 
justice. Their religious opinions prevented them from being fa- 
vourites at home ; but they were not forced to come abroad. 
There was as much of adventure as of necessity in their emigration. 
With their prayers for protection and prosperity were mingled 
visions of their future glories. They had learned from the sacred 
volume that means were necessary to produce ends, even when God 
himself had ordered the thing to be done, and the connection be- 
tween them could not be seen by the limited understandings of 
men. The hands of Moses must be raised, that Moab might be 
smitten, although his hand grasped no sword, and he was afar from 
the field of battle. They fixed on the means which, in the ordinary 
D2 6 



42 LECTURES ON 

course of providence produced such ends as they prayed for. To 
watch the humble mansion as it was erected ; to hsten to all the pa- 
triarchal instruction as it flowed at the family altar; to contemplate 
the rude structure in which public worship was at first performed ; 
to note the infant seminaries of instruction as they arose ; to watch 
the police, apparently as simple as that of the barbarians around 
them, yet still guarded by every great principle embraced in the 
charter of British liberties, and the still greater principles of the 
moral law, founded upon justice, and written on the human 
heart ; to do all this, and more, would be a delightful task ;■ but it is 
the privilege of but few to indulge minutely in these retrospections, 
so honourable to our fathers and so useful to us. Our fathers had 
failings, for they were but men. It will be found, however, that the 
more they are inspected, and tried, the more conspicuous will be 
tlieir merits, and the deeper will be the sense of our obligations to 
them for what they did. 

I will endeavour, with as much justice and impartiality as I can, 
to go up to the springs of our institutions, and trace the sources of 
our literature and sciences ; and will, as fairly as I am able, give the 
brief history of the merits of the colonies as they arose and flourish- 
ed ; but as I proceed through details of the history of their minds 
and its productions, I shall ask for the candid remarks of the en- 
lightened and liberal, and I promise to profit by judicious hints and 
honest criticisms. I am nothing more than one of the pioneers in 
the great work of redeeming our fame from the foul aspersions of 
our enemies. I have written for the instruction of the rising, and 
to awake the recollections of the risen generation. I invoke the 
scholar and the patriot to aid me in this undertaking, that justice 
maybe done to our common country. The fond hope of sometimes 
catching the ear of taste, and of eliciting the approving smile of 
beauty, has often cheered me in my labours, but if the patriotick 
should not hear my invocations, or taste lend her ear, nor loveliness 
lavish her smiles, still I can console myself with a consciousness 
that my admiration of the reputation of our ancestors, and the 
wish to do some good to my fellow-men, were the strongest mo- 
tives for my exertions. 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. . 43 



LECTURE III. 



'So Providence for us, high, infinite, 
Makes our necessities its watchful task, 
Hearkens to all our prayers,helps all our wants; 
And e'en if it denies what seems our right. 
Either denies because 'twould have us ask, 
Or seems but to deny, or in denying grants." 

In making our researches, for the literature of any particular pe- 
riod, we must necessarily go to the men of that age ; for who they 
were, and what they did, are so intimately connected with what 
they wrote, that it may be the better course to name some of those, 
together with their works, who first enlightened the country by their 
literary and religious labours. 

In the little band of pilgrims, there were several men of cultivated 
minds. The venerable Brewster, who was chosen the ruling elder 
among them, had been educated in the school of diplomacy ; having 
been secretary to one of the ambassadors of Elizabeth. He was a 
brave soldier, and well acquainted with the military tacticks of his 
time. His talents, united to his gravity, age, and sanctity, made him 
a very proper person for a leader. Carver, the first governor of 
Plymouth, was also a man of enterprise, intelligence, and great be- 
nevolence, and quite a business man ; and his letters upon the con- 
tract he had made with the Virginia Company, show him to be a 
well educated one. 

Bradford, who was governor after the death of Carver, was a man 
of sense ; was bred a la^vyer ; was a good scholar, well read in the 
modern languages, and knew something of the classicks. This gen- 
tleman kept a most minute and faithful journal of events ; but they 
were not aU published, and most of them have been lost. Some few 
scraps have been found, which are now in the Massachusetts His- 
torical collection ; but Moreton and others had read his manuscripts, 
and it is probable, we have no small portion of their substance in 
other works. 

Miles Standish, their military captain, was not only a good soldier, 
but highly respectable in point of acquirements ; having been ap- 
pointed, in difficult times, an agent for the company in England, 
and sent over as a financier ; and it was thought his mission was 
well executed when he was able to hire money at fifty pounds on 



44 LECTURES ON 

the hundred ; so low was the credit of the colony. He probably 
loved to fight better than to pray, exhort, or teach ; and of course 
he was not so much celebrated in the churches, as he might have 
been, had he been more of a saint and less of a hero ; but a braver 
man never lived, than Miles Standish, nor a more useful one for an 
infant settlement. 

Edward Winslow, another of these hero-pilgrims, was also go- 
vernor of the colony, and esteemed a fine scholar. He was one of 
the most active and intelligent of the first emigrants. He journeyed 
from place to place, visiting the several tribes of Indians, to keep 
them in peace and quietness, and always managed them with great 
discretion, being at once fearless of their power, and tender of their 
feelings. He visited England also, for the good of the colony, and suf- 
fered imprisonment for the cause during the arbitrary rule of Laud. 
His writings were valuable, and are now highly esteemed ; for he was 
one of those few, in that age, who showed a true spirit of philosophy 
in the midst of religious zeal. Purchas has preserved some of his 
writings in his collections. 

To be assured that this people were well informed, and understood 
their civil as well as religious rights, we only need look to their con- 
tracts, drawn up and signed onboard the May-flower, on the 11th of 
November, 1620. This was the very first instance of power, coming 
without influence or control from the people themselves ; and the 
style and matter of this Magna Charta of American liberties, do 
honour to the intellects of those who formed it. The whole super- 
structure they designed and reared, was based on knowledge and 
virtue, and implied the establishment of schools and a supply of 
teachers ; and of course we find, among their first acts, after the 
immediate wants of nature were supplied, was the establishment 
of schools, with penalties for any breach of their ordinances. 

The records of this colony, kept during the time they were dis- 
tinct and separate from the colony of Massachusetts Bay, and which 
was so for more than seventy years, has been lately copied by the order 
of the legislature of Massachusetts ; and it is found to contain many 
excellent ordinances, decrees, or laws, well adapted to their character 
and situation. The thorough-bred politician of the day might smile 
at the simplicity of some of them ; but they were suited to the age 
and the people for which they were made ; and this is the true phi- 
losophy of all law making. The histories which we now have of 
that age and people, are the best authenticated of any histories ex- 
tant. Morton's memorial, which is often referred to, is an invaluable 
work. The writer, who was in that colony from early life to the 
time of his death, was a relation of Governor Bradford. He was 
also secretary of the colony, which gave him a fine opportunity to 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 45 

know the passing events. The memorial was printed in the life 
time of the author, in 1669. It went through an ordeal of criticism 
before it was sent to the press, being inspected by two learned, grave 
divines, Mr. Higginson of Salem, and Mr. Thatcher of Weymouth ; 
and the work and the author were commended to the faithful. In 
1721, it was reprinted and published by Josiah Cotton, register of 
deeds for the county of Plymouth. The editor, Mr. Cotton, was an 
antiquarian, and he made an appendix to the work, but did not do 
so much as he might have done at that day for his author, or for 
himself. From this edition there have been reprints ; one in 1773, 
at Newport, R. I., and another in 1826, at Plymouth. 

This year, 1827, an improved edition of the memorial has issued 
from the press in Boston, under the sanction of a name now connect- 
ed with the literature of our country, in its earlier and latter days; 
as an antiquarian. Judge Davis has but few equals ; as a writer of 
taste and talent, no superiour among the literati of the United States. 
Besides the Memorial, and Winslow's Good News from New-Eng- 
land, and others we have mentioned, there is a work called MourVs 
Journal, whose history seems to have been involved in some mys- 
tery ; but the fortunate circumstance of finding a complete copy of 
this work in 1819, has, in a good measure, removed all difficulties about 
it. To Mr. Duponceau, of Philadelphia, we are indebted for this, 
as the country is for some of the most learned and satisfactory 
essays upon its history and literature which have ever been pub- 
lished in it. The name of the journalist was not to be found in the 
catalogue of the first settlers, but a critical writer in the North Ame- 
rican Review, with much plausibility, places him among the " Mer- 
chant adventurers'^ of that day, who had been assiduous in obtaining 
information from the New World. It was a time of great curiosity 
in Europe respecting this country. The avaricious were still in- 
dulging dreams of gold, although there had been so many disap- 
pointments ; the lovers of religious freedom looked to it as an asylum 
for the persecuted of all nations ; and the political economists were 
hailing it as the future receptacle of the surplus population of de- 
cayed and falling nations. These were favourable auguries, but 
there were no certainties in the destinies of these adventurers. Nu- 
merous tribes of Indians surrounded them, and it was uncertain how 
much they would be assisted by more distant tribes, in some future 
day, in case of war; and it was still doubtful what course the nations 
of Europe might pursue in some remote period towards these set- 
tlements, when urged by love of power, or gain, or revenge. The 
seed sown had indeed come up well, the plants were thriving, but 
what frosts, or blights, or mildews might come, it was beyond hu- 
man foresight to divine ; but their hopes were in the God of their 



46 LECTURES ON 

fathers, and in his promises to those who sought aright and followed 
his precepts in singleness of heart. 

The transition is easy from individuals of the pilgrims to those 
of the Massachusetts colonists. This colony was contemplated 
earlier, but not much was done until the summer of 1630, when 
Governor Winthrop and Deputy-Governor Dudley, Sir Richard Sal- 
tonstall, Mr. Johnson, and others, several of them learned divines and 
eminent physicians, sailed from England in a fleet of twelve ships, 
containing fifteen hundred souls. Many of these adventurers died, 
during a long voyage, by the small pox, and other diseases ; and 
there were no ready accommodations for them when they reached 
these shores, and of course many died soon after their landing. 
But notwithstanding every discouragement, they instantly set about 
organizing themselves into churches, and, trusting in heaven, went 
on as if in the utmost prosperity. Winthrop was truly a great man, 
and so were many of his coadjutors. Winthrop had been a distin- 
guished lawyer in Groton, in the county of Suffolk, before he came 
to this country. It was thought a great acquisition to the enterprise 
when he was induced to join it. He was well acquainted with the 
great doctrines of civil liberty, which had just begun to be thoroughly 
examined by the most eminent jurists of Europe. The worlcs of 
Grotius had been dispersed though the civilized world, and the 
strong minded had profited by them. 

Winthrop not only attended to his duty as a chief magistrate, but 
kept a journal of his proceedings, and the general current of events, 
from the commencement of his voyage to the time of his death, or 
nearly to it, embracing the period from 1630 to 1649. A portion of 
this journal was preserved among his descendants, but not published 
until 1790 ; and other parts of it were lost. It had often been alluded 
to as having been a guide to others; but all hopes of finding it Avere 
given up, when, in the spring of 1816, the lost manuscript was dis- 
covered in the tower of the old south church, in Boston. It had 
slept among the rubbish of a church library until this time. The 
antiquarian considered it a God-send, and the lovers of American 
literature at large were much delighted at this discovery. Here was 
something authentick ; a history written day by day, as the events 
transpired, by one who knew the whole matter, and in which he 
acted no small part: a journal not Avrittento please any set of men, 
or to assist the designs of a party. This valuable manuscript was 
put into the hands of James Savage, Esq., a lawyer of distinction at 
the Suffolk bar, whose taste and talents fitted him for the task of 
arranging and commenting upon it. The learned notes given to the 
world by that gentleman, in his edition of this journal, justly entitle 
him to the thanks and respect of his countrymen. The life of Win- 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 47 

throp was one of great activity, magnanimity, and suffering, and adds 
another fact to prove that the pioneers in all great enterprises must 
be actuated by high motives and patriotic feelings ; for their enjoy- 
ment is scanty, and the sun of glory bursts not from the cloud to 
cheer their parting souls, but shines only on their mouldering monu- 
ments. 

Dudley, the deputy governor, was a man well educated, and from 
his letters, appears to have had a correct view of the undertaking of 
building up a church in the wilderness, although he did not rank 
with the very learned men of his time. He had more learning, 
however, than tolerance. It was not an age of liberal feeling. 

Sir Richard Saltonstall did not come out with any pretensions to 
learning ; he was a statesman of no small parts, but from his report, 
which is to be found in the appendix to Winthrop's journal. Savage's 
edition, he appears to have been well educated ; for it is written in 
better English, and in a more elegant style, than other specimens of 
that period ; except perhaps some of Winthrop's works. 

John Wilson, the pastor of the first church in Boston, was a learned 
man— spoke Latin with great fluency. He was a firm friend to 
liberality and science, and was, generally, both the friend of Win- 
throp and of Cotton ; but when called to decide in the antinomian 
controversy, he joined with Winthrop against his ecclesiastical senior. 

John Elliot, generally styled " the apostle to the IiuHans,''^ deserves 
to be remembered among the good and learned men of that age. 
He came to Boston in 1631 ; and although he intended settling at 
Boston, chose to live at Roxbury, and was there a great favourite of 
his congregation throughout his long life. But one opinion has ever 
been entertained of this great scholar and christian philanthropist. 
Gifted by nature with quick perceptions, and a strong memory, to 
which was added the most untiring industry, he became an admira- 
ble linguist ; and soon made himself master of the Indian language. 
He preached to the Indians, who readily understood him ; and, with 
immense labour, he succeeded in translating the Bible and several 
religious tracts into their vernacular tongue. This Indian Bible is 
now a great curiosity. Probably there is not three men living who 
can do more than pick out a few words which they can read and 
understand. Elliot was a man of great simplicity of character ; zeal- 
ous in his profession, and ardent in his desire to convert the Indians ; 
but this was destined to be of more benefit to the whites than to the 
Indians; for, in the Pequod war, these ''praying- Indians,'''' as those 
converted by Mr. Elliot Avere called, were either neutral or friendly 
to the whites ; and a different feeling towards the colonies would 
have been dangerous to the new settlement. Elliot Avas well ac- 
quainted with the rights of man, in his civil as well as religious cha- 



48 LECTURES ON 

racter. He wi-ote the first political pamphlet which was published 
in this country, entitled " The Christian Commonwealth." This 
work is full of free and noble principles; but the magistrates took 
alarm at it, and the good man had to recant his opinions, or rather 
apologize for this publication. He lived to the age of eighty-six ; to 
a time when the colonies had grown to a large and flourishing peo- 
ple. The tribe of Indians which he instructed is now nearly extinct. 
There are not more than a dozen of them left. One of these Naticks 
was tried, a few years ago, for murdering his grandmother, and then 
all that were left of the tribe assembled. The Indians are fated to 
fade away before the progress of civilization : it was so written in 
the destiny of nations. 

Cotton, Haynes, and Hooker, all came to this country in 1633, in 
the same ship. The former settled in Boston, " and in compliment 
to him, in the expectation of his coming from Boston, in Lincolnshire, 
did that ancient town in New-England receive its name." Mr. Cot- 
ton was, until the time of his death, the chief of the apostles to the 
new world. " A mighty fame as a scholar and preacher had pre- 
ceded him," and this expectation was not tarnished nor diminished 
by his conduct in the colony. Hooker went with Haynes to Con- 
necticut, after three years residence in Massachusetts, as ministers 
at Newton. Haynes was one year governor of the colony before he 
removed. Hooker wrote many sermons which were printed, but 
his greatest work was on " Church Discipline." 

Thomas Parker, another of the New-England fathers, came to the 
country in 1634, and was for a year an assistant to Mr. Ward of 
Ipswich, and then removed to Newbury, on a river which now bears 
his name. James Noyes, his friend, was teacher to the same people; 
and these learned men did much good in their settlement. Noyes 
acted in the capacity of a schoolmaster, and did much to enlighten 
his flock. It is a remarkable fact that, in later times, this spot has 
been noted for being the birth place of several learned men. Judge 
Parsons, Professor Pearson, Professor Webber, Professor John 
Smith, and several others of fame, were natives of Newbury, and born 
near the old farm of Mr. Parker. While Noyes was training the 
youthful mind, Parker was deep in the mysteries of the profession, 
and produced a treatise which was much read by the learned of that 
day. Mr. Parker was an amiable man, but some of his writings 
brought him into the field of controversy with President Chauncey. 
It is not to be presumed that these controversies had really so much 
bitterness in them as, at this distance of time, we may suppose 
them to have had. It was the fashion of the day to break a lance 
with a neighbouring divine merely to try each others' skill and 
strength, and to acquire a fame for shrewdness and learning. This 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 49 

habit has, in some measure, contimied to the present day. It is a 
bloodless war of words, and the discussion will be read by many 
who would perhaps read nothing else. 

The name of Shephard is intimately connected with the early 
history of American literature. Thomas, the first in the catalogue, 
came to Boston and Cambridge, in 1635, as successor to Hooker, 
who had left this vineyard abounding in labourers, and had set out, 
through the wilderness, to form a settlement on Connecticut river, 
at Hartford. Mr. Shephard was an excellent scholar, particularly 
deep in metaphysicks, and yet he wrote without that obscurity which 
is often found in the writings of men of that cast of mind. He died 
in the forty-fourth year of his age, but he lived long enough to pub- 
lish many works of merit. Several of them Avere very popular. 
" The Morality of the Sabbath" " New-Evg-lancfs Lamentation 
for Old England's Errours,"" and also, "An Explanation of the 
Parable of the Ten Virg-ins." From this latter fountain, the great 
Doctor Edwards acknowledged that he drew copiously in writing 
his " Treatise on the Affections.''^ Thomas Shephard's eldest son 
bore his father's christian name, and was heir to his father's talents 
and virtues, but he joined the congregation of the dead still younger 
than his parent. President Oakes delivered an elegant Latin oration 
upon his death. His days were devoted to literature and religion. 
There were two other sons of the elder Thomas Shephard, Samuel 
and Jeremiah. The first of these died at the age of twenty-seven. 
Mitchell wrote his eulogy. The latter Sliephard lived to a good old 
age. These three sons were educated at Harvard College. Cotton 
Mather speaks of them with admiration, and says, " that having 
three such excellent ministers is something better than to have three 
orators, like the Curii of Rome." 

Our ancestors had among them menof all casts of mind, and some 
■who, fearless of the austerity of the times, often indulged in wit find 
satire. Of this class no one was more distinguished than Nathaniel 
Ward. He was a lawyer, a divine, and a satirist, who came to this 
country, and for a while, was settled at Ipswich ; was invited to 
preach the election sermon by the freemen, without consulting the 
magistrates, and also to draw up a code of laws, which he did. This 
code consisted of one hundred laws, called " thebody of the liberties.^' 
Among his satirical works is one called " TTie simple Cobbler of 
Agawam." He was a high royalist, and this was in part written to 
abuse the enemies of Charles I. It had been admired for its caus- 
ticity, but its coarseness is equal to its pungency. 

Peter Bulkeley was a gentleman who came to this country to en- 
joy the liberty of conscience and the liberty to preach. He weis a 
clergjonan in Bedfordshire, and continued his labours thi^-e for 
E 7 



50 LECTURES ON 

twenty years ; but on being silenced for non-conformity, he left Eng- 
land and gathered a church in Concord, within twenty miles of Bos- 
ton. His fortune was large and his benevolence unbounded. He 
was said to have been very learned. He wrote Latin poetry ; some 
scraps of which Cotton Mather has handed down to us. He also 
published a celebrated work on " the covenant of grace opened.'''' 
This work went through many editions, and was praised by the great 
theologians of that day. 

Nathaniel Rogers, minister of Ipswich, was a descendant of John 
Rogers, the martyr in Queen Mary's time. He came to this comilry 
in 1636. He was one of the greatest of that distinguished band of 
christian emigrants who suffered by the persecutions of Laud. He 
is mentioned in high terms by Johnson, Winthrop, and Mather. 

Ezekiel Rogers came about tlie year 1638, and settled in Rowley, 
and was held in veneration by tlie people of Rowley and throughout 
the colony. He preached the election sermon in 1643. In this he 
advocated the pure democratick doctrine of rotation in office,, and 
strenuously urged the good people not to choose a governor twice 
in succession : but they did not regard his advice. He was a publick 
benefactor, giving his library by will to Harvard College, and leaving 
considerable property for the support of a clergyman in the town 
of Rowley. 

Many more of these founders of the republick might be named, if 
our time would allow it, who, for liberty of conscience, left ease, 
plenty, and friends in their native land, and all the charms of ele- 
vated society, and threw themselves upon the wilds of America. 
Their hardships can never be fully told. They spent their lives in 
subduing nature, and teaching an humble flock ; acting as patrons, 
pastors, physicians, lawyers, and often as nurses to mind and body. A 
lively sense of duty, and a full measure of grace, could alone have 
supported them in their labours, while in their hearts they sighed 
for the country lliey had left. Even in their dreams they visited 
the shores of England, and could not but acknowledge that with all 
her faults they loved her still. 

One of the most remarkable events in the history of our early 
literature was the founding of a college in the Massachusetts colony 
at Cambridge, in the year 1636. Scarcely had they cultivated suffi- 
cient ground to supply the wants of nature, before they began this 
great work of establishing an institution of learning, that theological 
learning should not be lost among them for want of education. The 
projectors were wise men, and laid a good foundation. They were 
unfortunate in their first president, who proved a tyrant ; but he was 
soon dismissed, and an excellent man. President Dunster, entered 
upon the duties of his office. He was a man of learning and great 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 51 

mildness of character; but, differing with the great proportion of the 
clergymen of that day on the subject of baptism, he retired from 
office, about fourteen years after his appointment. Chauncey suc- 
ceeded Dunster. He had been a minister at Situate in the old colo- 
ny. Dunster was a fine oriental scholar, particularly well learned 
in the Hebrew ; and he set about revising the psalms which Elliot 
and his friends had versified from David's. This corrected version 
of Dunster's passed through many editions, and were used until the 
version of Tate and Brady, and that of Dr. Watts, more particularly 
took the place of them. Under the administration of Dunster the 
college flourished greatly, and acquired such fame in England, that 
the sons of the puritans were desirous of coming to this country for 
an education. President Chauncey had been distinguished in Eng- 
land, but falling under the displeasure of archbishop Laud, he came 
to this country in 1638. This was a judicious appointment ; for he 
stood primus inter pares, as a scholar. Besides the dead languages 
usually acquired, he was acquainted with some of the living oriental 
languages, which were studied in England in his time by many of 
the great lights of their universities. He was president for seven- 
teen years, and the college prospered under his care. He had six 
sons, all of whom graduated at Cambridge, and were eminent in 
their day as divines and scholars. Dr. Hoar succeeded President 
Chauncey. He was a learned man, of amiable manners, who had 
moved in polished society ; but he had not enough of the sternness 
of the pedagogue to succeed in the government of youths, and he 
was obliged to leave his office in a rebellion of the students. This 
was too great a shock for his delicate nerves, and he sunk under this 
affliction in the same year of his resignation, at the age of forty-five. 
Many learned men want the spirit of discipline to govern boys ; and, 
in fact, every instructor has found this the most difficult part of his 
duty. He was the first president who was graduated at Harvard 
college. 

President Oaks, who succeeded Hoar, was also one of the sons of 
Harvard. The office of president he held, and still continued pastor 
of the church at Cambridge. His official life was short, for he died 
in 1681. Dr. Rogers was his successor: but he died also within a 
year after his installation. 

Increase Mather was now appointed President, and although 
tainted with the bigotry of the age, for he had entered deeply into the 
delusions of the belief of witchcraft, yet he was a very excellent 
president : fond of encouraging the emulous youths under his care. 

Thus, this college, for the first half century of the existence of the 
colony, had flourished beyond a parallel in the annals of letters ; had 
been blessed with the munificence of the wealthy and the good, in 



.\. 



62 LECTURES ON 

New-England ; had secured friends and patrons in the mother coun- 
try ; had supphed the churches with learned divines to fill the places 
created by the increase of population and those made vacant by the 
death of the fathers of the American church ; and others of various 
pursuits were found among the Alumni of Harvard. Every man in 
the province considered this institution as a monument he had assist- 
ed to rear, and it became incorporated with every branch of church 
and state. The temporalities were remembered in the testaments 
of the wealthy, and the righteous were unceasing in their prayers 
that, from this fountain, might flow streams refreshing to the body 
politic, and such as would gladden the city of our God. The go- 
vernment of the commonwealth have, from the beginning, made, 
from time to time, liberal grants for its support, and have constantly 
extended its protecting hand in every hour of its existence. 

Mathematical science flourished in the colony of Massachusetts 
at a very early period. John Sherman, who came to this country in 
1634, and was for a short time assistant to the Rev. Mr. Phillips, at 
Watertown, was eminently learned in the science of numbers. He left 
Watertown, and sojourned for several years in Connecticut, and there 
preached occasionally, but generally was employed in public life ; 
but after the death of Mr. Phillips, he was invited to return to 
Watertown, to his old parish ; and he accepted the invitation, and 
took upon himself the duties of a clergyman once more ; but his 
active mind could not be confined to his parochial duties, for he 
wished to do good in every way he could. On being appointed fel- 
low of Harvard college, he delivered lectures on scientifick, moral, 
and religious subjects, which were attended by the students of the 
university, and others. These were the first lectures delivered on 
such subjects in this country. During this time, he published an 
almanack, interspersed with religious remarks, which was a work 
of much talent. If Cotton Mather may be taken as authority, he 
was profoundly skilled in mathematics, and its kindred branches of 
knowledge, natural philosophy and astronomy. His style of wri- 
ting had nothing of mathematical dryness in it, but was lofty, 
flowing, and eloquent. (Mr. Sherman was blessed with a numer- 
ous family, having twenty-six children, and some of his descendants 
are among the first people in New-England ; a greater number from 
the female branches than from the male.) 

Of the progress of the literature of the ancient dominion, during 
the first half century, after it was so far settled as to form a regular 
government, which was in 1620, 1 am not able to give much ac- 
count ; not that I have not been sedulous in my inquiries, and con- 
stant in my researches for this purpose ; but, as they were all church- 
men in Virginia at this period, and did not enter into the polemicks 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 63 

of the day, and no extraordinary man was driven by persecution to 
her shores, it is but fair to suppose that tliey thought it wiser to en- 
joy the hour, than to trouble themselves to record the occurrences 
of their lives for posterity. They could not have been destitute of 
classical men, when, in 1641, there were about forty clergymen in 
Virginia extremely well paid for their services. The salary of a 
clergyman was then ten thousand pounds of tobacco a year ; forty 
shillings being a fee for a funeral service, and twenty for a marriage 
one. Among these divines, as well as among the magistrates, there 
must have been some men of high attainments. There was no 
tolerably accurate history of Virginia until Beverley's, which was 
published in England in 1665. He was a man of intelligence, and 
seems to have written merely to correct the error, which was pre- 
valent in England, on the subject of Virginia history. 

JNIaryland was settled not far from the time of the planting of the 
colony of Massachusetts Bay. For this enterprise the Avorld are 
indebted to the first and second Lords Baltimore. The adventurers 
were catholicks, and are said to have been of high respectability. They 
were as talented as any of the early colonists, and reserved to this 
day extensive lands for the purposes of education. But there are but 
few traces of their advancement in the cultivation of letters, for the 
first half century of their existence. Yet to this state, as well as to 
Virginia, many of the royalists fled during the time of Cromwell's 
commonwealth ; and surely, many of these must have been fine 
scholars ; but how they employed their time, during that period, they 
have left us nothing but conjecture, as far as I can discover. 

New-York, being all the time, from its settlement to 1664, in the 
hands of the Dutch, we can say nothing of its literature ; but there 
is no reason to suppose that it was not very considerable. If the 
country does not owe much to the Dutch, in the way of its literary 
establishments, it certainly has cause to respect them for an indus- 
trious progeny, always a blessing to any country. It is stated by 
Lamberchtsen, a late historian of New-Netherlands, that this colony 
was partly settled by the Waldenses of Piedmont, subjects of the 
duke of Savoy, Avho fled from the persecutions of their sovereign ; 
and Milton, and other writers, speak of them as among the most 
virtuous and intelligent of mankind. Laniberchtsen's work has 
been made known to us, for it was locked up in a language unknown 
to most scholars, by one of the first writers among us, whose taste 
and researches have done honour to his country, G. Verplank, of the 
city of New- York ; and to whom others, as well as myself, stand 
deeply indebted for much instruction, and many a fine model of 
composition. He has burnished up the buUion of his ancestors with 
admirable skill, and stamped it with inscriptions of clas|ical taste. 
E2 



54 LECTURES ON 

Connecticut was an emanation from the colony of Massachusetts, 
and, like the former, was commenced by enlightened men. Win- 
throp, the son of the governor of Massachusetts, an accomplished 
scholar, came out from England with an agency of the Lords Say 
and Brook, in 1635, and was chosen governor of Hartford colony. 
Hopkins, Haynes, Wyllys, Thomas, Wells, and Webster, were 
governors after him. The colony of New-Haven was begun in 1637, 
and was governed by Seton, Newman, and Leet, until the union be- 
tween the two colonies. Winthrop was the most scientific man of 
his time among the colonists. He was intimate with Boyle and 
Wllkins, and assisted in founding the " Royal Society of London^ 
Douglass, who praises no one heartily, and abuses as many as he can, 
says, " Winthrop, who died in Boston, March 26, 1649, was much 
given to experimental philosophy and medicine." Several of his 
receipts are still used by that family in charity to the poor. Some 
of his pieces are to be found amongst the first philosophical trans- 
actions of the London Royal Society. In fact, one of the volumes 
of the transactions of that society was dedicated to him. He was 
the principal correspondent of this society in the West, and they 
had chosen the first men in every country for this office. 

Leet was a lawyer, and a man of talents and firmness. He, long 
after his acting as deputy to Winthrop, protected Whally and Goffe, 
the regicides, and behaved with high honour, and great kindness and 
firmness, in this critical time. Hooker we have previously men- 
tioned. Eaton was a liberal man, and gave largely for the support 
of education. Five hundred pounds of his estate went, by a decree 
of chancery, to Harvard college ; and twice that sum was given for 
the support of schools in New-Haven, Hartford, and Hadley. These 
early settlements paid the same attention to education that was be- 
stowed upon this important subject in Massachusetts, and, with 
them, it has been equally successful. They began wisely, and have 
proceeded judiciously: but, as during the half century we are now 
treating, they had neither university nor press, still they were im- 
bibing the elements of that knowledge, and cherishing those princi- 
ples, which, in the next half century, were to develope themselves so 
beautifully. 

New-Hampshire can hardly be considered, for the first half cen- 
tury, as separate from the colony of Massachusetts, in a political 
point of view, being then virtually under the government of the for- 
mer. The settlers were the same sort of men ; and, in proportion 
to their means, they pursued the same course in religion and letters. 
In a few towns near Portsmouth, churches were gathered and in- 
struction commenced ; and, by the second half century, York, Wells, 
and other places, were in a hopeful forwardness, and were able to 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 5S 

sustain their part in the labours and trials of extending the blessings 
of civilization and knowledge. 

Rhode Island was first settled by Roger Williams, a native of 
Wales. He came to this country in 1631, and was engaged in the 
ministry in Salem, in Massachusetts. Some difficulties arising re- 
specting his doctrines, he went to Plymouth colony, and from thence 
returned to Salem ; but he became so bold in preaching his tenets, 
both religious and political, that they could not endure to hear them. 
He came out fully, and said that the charter of Massachusetts was 
good for nothing, as the soil and sovereignty was not purchased of 
the natives. These Avere unpalatable doctrines in that day. He 
would not desist for the threats of enemies nor the entreaty of 
friends ; and the magistrates passed sentence of banishment on him, 
and he Avas exiled from the godly ; and, after many tribulations, he 
settled in Providence, a name he gave the place of his rest, in grati- 
tude to a kind providence that had directed him to so goodly an 
heritage. He began by a noble act, Avhich contained at once the 
spirit of a true religion, and the dictates of a sound philosophy. 
He began by tolerating all religious creeds. Toleration was then 
considered a plant of a strange groAvth, that had sprung up in errour, 
and would soon die in shame. The zealous dreaded it, as a poison- 
ous Aveed that Avould blight all the SAveet-scented floAvers in the gar- 
den of God ; one that Avould change the balmy breath of religion 
to moral pestilence and death. Hoav often have good men been 
mistaken. This spirit of toleration is the bond of harmony, and 
the protection of all religion. The liberty this great founder of a 
state gave to others he took for himself; for he changed his OAvn 
sentiments of baptism, and thought that man must Avait for the ordi- 
nance until it Avas intimated to him from heaven. From religion, he 
bent his mind to the politics of his settlement; and went, in 1643, 
and afterAvards, to England as agent for his colony, and, on his re- 
turn, Avas made president of it. He was as magnanimous as he was 
tolerant ; for living in the neighbourhood of several formidable tribes 
of Indians, he could at any time have stirred them up to avenge 
himself for his banishment ; but, so far from taking this course, he 
kept them in peace Avith the Plymouth and Massachusetts Bay colo- 
nies ; but, Avhat is more particularly to our purpose, Roger Williams 
wrote a key to the Indian language, Avhich is a very learned, well 
written book, and gives the present generation a better knowledge 
of the advancement of the savages in their moral and social, as well 
as political and Avarlike relations, than any other book of that age. 
He attacked, as a controversial Avriter on religious subjects, Mr. Cot- 
ton, Endicot, George Fox, and others, Avith great poAver and saga- 
city. He tolerated all, but followed none. His OAvn opinions Avere, 



S6 LECTURES ON 

perhaps, never very fully settled in his own mind, and this he did 
not conceal from others. His whole soul seemed constantly strug- 
gling with a spirit beyond the feelings and the knowledge of the age 
in which he lived. The eccentricities of the intelligent are often 
nothing more than the agitation of the mind, pregnant with new 
principles and inventions, to which accident may give birth. 

During the first fifty years of the existence of our settlements, the 
useful arts as well as letters flourished among them to a very con- 
siderable extent. The private dwelling houses were made more 
comfortable; prosperous villages grew up; a thrifty commerce, 
commencing in the fisheries, was established ; merchant vessels and 
ships for defence were built ; (three, before 1645, of 300 tons;) se- 
veral public edifices were erected ; and school-houses convenient for 
the great work of publick instruction were built in various parts of 
the country. Much of this prosperity, with the blessing of God, 
was undoubtedly the effect of the mental energies and moral cha- 
racter of the men who conceived and achieved the enterprise of es- 
tablishing an asylum in this newly discovered world. 

But it ought not to be forgotten that the character of the women 
of that age, had much to do with the success of the undertaking. 
At the time of the first emigration to this country, the females of 
England were well educated, and had a higher rank in the scale of 
mind, than at any previous age in British history. This had been 
effected, in no small degree, by the long and prosperous reign of 
Queen Elizabeth, and her high reputation for talents and learning. 
Fashion has often the same control over the mind, as over the dress 
and equipage of a people. It was fashionable during the reign of 
this extraordinary queen, to think women as capable of reasoning 
upon public affairs as men. Our mothers brought something of 
•this spirit with them. They knew from history, how much their 
sex had done in the advancement of civilization and Christianity ; 
and here was the finest field to prove that they still had the power 
and inclination. Naturally generous and enthusiastick, women have 
in every age been attached to the hero and the saint ; and have fol- 
lowed the former to the battle-field, to bind up his wounds, and to 
sing his praises after victory ; and the latter to the cross and the 
tomb. The wives of the pilgrims who landed at Plymouth disco- 
vered more than Spartan fortitude in braving dangers and in sup- 
porting calamities. They were well educated women. 

Among those who came after the pilgrims to settle the province 
of Massachusetts Bay, were several women of high rank and su- 
perior refinement ; Lady Arabella Johnson, daughter of the Earl of 
Lincoln, and the wives of the gentlemen who formed the board of 
magistrates, were high bred dames ; as well as the wives of the 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 57 

clergy, and many of the wives of their associates. Some of their 
chirography has reached us. It resembles the easy, flowing, fa- 
shionable hand of the present day, while the writing of the men of 
that day, is difficult to be read. We have all seen the needle-work 
of that age in embroidered armorials, and genealogical trees ; and 
these ancient records bear ample testimony to the industry, talent 
and skill of the fair who wrought them. They shared the hardship 
of the times. Many a lovely daughter, in that day, who had been 
brought up in affluence, and with tenderness, on her marriage, 
moved from her home and parents, to some new settlement where 
her bridal serenade was the bowlings of the beasts of prey, as they 
nightly roamed the desert. 

If our mothers had a share, and a great share they had, in the 
trials of those days, why should they not be remembered in the liis- 
tory of this new-born empire? I contend, and who Avill deny it, 
that it required more courage and fortitude to stay on the skirts of 
the forest, unprotected by moat, ditch, or stockade, in the half 
built cabin, with decrepitude and infancy, listening to every step, 
anxious for the coming in of those who had gone forth in search of 
the foe, than it did to fight the foe Avhen he was met. This was 
more than Spartan fortitude ; for the enemy seldom saw the dwelling 
where the heroick mother of Sparta waited to hear the fate of her 
husband or children ; but ours were in constant danger of an attack 
from the savages. 

Such were our progenitors : such the race who came to a wilder- 
ness, and broke it into fertility and made it a garden. Men who, 
living, exercised the rights of freemen, and who died with the spirit 
of the brave, in the hopes of the just : and if no monument mark the 
sacred ground in which their ashes repose, yet, their labours, their 
stniggles. and their virtues, are matters of distinct history. The mo- 
miments they left behind, are more durable than brass, and will re- 
tain their polish longer than marble. They consist in the institu- 
tions they founded and cherished, in their day and generation, and 
bequeathed as a rich legacy to their posterity. There is not a prin- 
ciple of religion, of liberty, or law, among us, at this day, whose 
germ cannot be traced to them. The foundation stones of our 
schools of learning, of our halls of justice, and of the temples of our 
God, were laid by them in every hallowed right of consecration. 
This goodly heritage, has been cherished and defended in good 
faith, and has come down, extending wider and growing more va- 
luable with every passing day : and when distant ages to us shall 
come blessed with wealth, with dominion, and power, and shall be 
covered with new intellectual glory, surroimded by arts yet un- 
fcnowiij and sciences yet untaught, these early fathers of the land 

8 



58 LECTURES ON 

shall receive an increased measure of fame. Then may it be said, 
of this generation, that they were daughters worthy of their mothers, 
and sons who did not disgrace their fathers; a people who had 
transmitted unimpaired the blessings they had received. 



— e®©— 



LECTURE IV. 



Antiquities., or remnants of history, are tanquam tabula naufragii, when in- 
dustrious persons, by an exact and scrupulous diligence and observation, out 
of monuments, names, words, proverbs, traditions, private records, and evi- 
dences, fragments of stories, passages of books that concern not story, and the 
lilie, do save and recover somewhat from the deluge of time. 

Verulam. 

In this second half century, from the settlement of the country, 
flourished the Mathers. The father. Increase Mather, has been 
already mentioned as president of Harvard College ; but, in a lite- 
rary view, the father and son may be said to have been contempo- 
raries. They died about the same time, within five years of each 
other, the elder 85, the younger 65. They were tlie most volinni- 
nous writers of the age in which they lived, and have ne\'er been 
exceeded by many in the variety of their subjects, nor in the amount 
of their matter. The concerns of religion and literature, the duties 
of political and domestick life, the subjects of the passing day, and 
the most abstruse questions of science, all fell within their grasp, 
and were honoured with their attention. It is no wonder, then, that 
the estimates of their merits were various ; some influenced by one 
motive and some by another. They felt every thing, and received 
every measure of attention, from adoration to hatred, from indivi- 
duals of the same community, at the same time. But after all, it is 
not so very difficult to form a just estimate of them at this day, al- 
though it must be confessed, that some, who agree in other things, 
disagree in regard to the merits of the Mathers. They were more 
exclusively our own scholars, than most of those we have men- 
tioned ; both were born on the soil, and were educated at the same 
university. The father was born at Dorchester, 1639, and the son 
in Boston, in 1663. Their minds were in a great degree alike ; but 
the father had seen more of the world than the son, havmg been 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 59 

several times in England, and mixed much in society, from the very- 
nature of his profession and offices ; and certainly had a better taste, 
either natural or cultivated. Both were indefatigable students, and 
were devoted to the same pursuits in letters and religion. The 
father wrote more than an hundred works, which issued from the 
press in this country or in England ; nothing escaped them, from 
cometographia to witcJicraft ; from wizards to angels. They shot 
off an arrow at profane dancing; and threw off a pamphlet in fa- 
vour of innoculation for the small-pox. The father had a rich 
imagination, great stores of learning, with great industry and apti- 
tude for study ; which often arises from equanimity of temper, 
which he had in a greater degree than his son ; and he possessed, 
what indeed is a great acquirement, a happy facility of moulding the 
minds of his pupils to virtue, and at the same time of stimulating 
their appetites for knowledge. He was happy in his own exertions; 
happy in his o^v^l success ; and still happier in a long life, to mature 
his plans, and to give efficiency to his efforts. This was not all ; he 
was thrice blessed in his son Cotton, who arose from the swaddling 
clothes of the cradle a prodigy. In his father's mind, the Arabian 
tale of the birth of Solomon was no longer a fable, of whom it was 
said, that the first Avord he spoke, was the awful name of the Most 
High, and the first sentence he uttered, was a confession of faith. 
Cotton Mather, when an infant, checked the wandering and reproved 
the vicious ; and received the blessing of the seer and sage, at every 
corner and in every temple. At fifteen years of age, he had finished 
his collegiate course, and was before the world as a scholar. His 
piety was superiour to his talents and learning ; for he read fifteen 
chapters a day in the bible, and reading, with him, was nearly com- 
mitting to memory ; and multiplied his fastings and vigils, with the 
zeal and perseverance of an hermit, who is destined to grace the 
calendar of saints. He coursed over the whole circle of sciences 
with great speed, and formed systems of his own, which, probably, 
he thought at the time would endure with sun and moon, and be 
as necessary to mankind as seed time and harvest. He became a 
colleague with his father in the ministry, and they lived and laboured, 
each in the sunshine of the other. He preached sermons, of great 
length, every Sunday, and spent several afternoons in the week in 
visiting his parishoners, for the purpose of devising something for 
their mental, temporal, and spiritual comfort. He wrote treatises 
with almost incredible celerity, and scattered them profusely, in the 
hope of doing good. One of his biographers says, that the number 
of his works was three hundred and eighty-three. It were vain to 
attempt to characterize all of them by any general class. The sub- 
jects, as well as the execution, were of different character. Franklin 



60 LECTURES ON 

ascribes to one of Mather's essays, all his iisefulness in life. This 
alone, one would think, Avere praise enough for one man ; but, in 
addition to this, many have added, if possible, higher praise ; namely, 
that the preacher, by his Avritings, had led them into the way of life 
everlasting. If any thing could exceed his industry, it was his wish 
to be useful ; and, if any thing could be imagined to transcend that 
desire, it was his credulity. His mind was rich and fruitful, well 
cultivated, but without regularity or order. He mistook method, or 
arrangement and order, in the distribution of his time, for method 
and order in the classification of his thoughts. This mistake is not 
an uncommon one. His intellectual store-house was full to over- 
flowing ; but nothing there was threshed, winnowed, binned, or la- 
belled. "Whenever he attempted to spread before the public his own 
thoughts, there came rushing to his memory ten thousand thoughts 
of other men ; probably not so good as his own, but which, from the 
pride of learning, must be used. These thoughts often dazzled his 
own vision, and obscured or misled his understanding. Thus the 
children of his own brain were bedizzened with the flaming colours 
of all costumes, and were half-smothered in the tatters of outlandish 
wardrobes. His logick was often overlaid by illustration, and the 
force of his eloquence lost by vanity, quaintness, and punning. 
Acquainted with the pure fountains of classical literature, and often 
refreshed with copious draughts from them, he feared his piety 
might be questioned by having this generally known ; and there- 
fore he drew his quotations, and, in fact, formed his taste, from the 
literature of scholastick divinity; forgetting, that some waters may 
be fit to bathe in, which might be deleterious to drink. Credulity, 
which is often the concomitant of quick genius, and which is, gene- 
rally, in itself harmless, was to him a sore evil, and left a stain on his 
escutcheon, which will go down to posterity with his name forever. 
When he was in the plenitude of his influence, in church and state, 
the delusion of witchcraft was at its height. He had the keeping of 
the conscience of the new governor. Sir William Phipps, who was 
an uneducated man, and never rose, though a man of strong mind 
naturally, above the errours of vulgar life. With the ignorant, he 
believed in demonology, and his confessor established his belief; 
^for who should know all about these things better than Doctor 
Mather.'''' This was the natural course of the governor's reflec- 
tions. The statesman and divine acted in concert, and the country 
was ransacked for instances, to show the great power of the devil ; 
and all these instances Mather noted and conned by heart. The 
victims died with imprecations upon their heads. The sober and 
thinking part of the community reasoned on the subject, and sifted 
the arguments and statements of the clergyman and the judges, and, 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 61 

at length, common sense prevailed, and the actors in the tragedy- 
were driven from the scene with scorn and detestation. The delu- 
sion passed off, but the stigma never will ; no man has ever visited 
the tomb of the Mathers, without thinking of these things, and, per- 
haps, thousands who have visited it, knew nothing else of them than 
the part the}^ took in this sad affair. But why Mather, Phipps, and 
the New-England judges here, should be more condemned, than the 
judges in old England, who, not far from the same time, both before 
and after, condemned unhappy creatures for the same crime, in the 
same way, is not easily explained. The part Cotton Mather took in 
this persecution has had a great influence on the minds of succeed- 
ing generations ; even in their estimate of his literary and religious 
reputation. All men can judge of a deficiency of common sense, 
while few are capable of appreciating the depths of learning. 

That the riper years of Cotton Mather should not have fulfilled 
the promise of his earlier, is not wonderful, when we reflect, that 
from his leaving college he had no rival ; for, like the Turk, he could 
bear no brother near the throne. For a mighty mind to be able to 
produce its best efforts, it must come in collision with those of full 
growth and maturity ; and gain the mastery by mental struggles, 
with others of similar character. But, so situated was Cotton Ma- 
ther, that, although others could, and did often mortify him by 
neglect, yet he was still acknowledged by the people to be first and 
foremost in every thing wonderful in science, or rare in letters. 
Calef chastised him with much severity, in an admirable piece of 
argument and satire, and fearlessly held him up to the world as 
bigoted and vain. A few joined with Calef, but the great mass of the 
good people found ready excuses for the great divine. In a few 
years after his death, and even in his life time, the sour, caustick, un- 
principled, but talented Douglass, sneered at his learning and laughed 
at his vanity. The dull and vapid Oldmixon thought he could mend 
his works ; and, in his own collections, has attempted to remodel 
Mather, in style and manner ; and in attempting to remove his ex- 
cresences, such as quaint sayings, and inapt quotations, and itseless 
pun, he left him a sinewless and marrowless skeleton of deformity. 
In modern times. Cotton Mather has been treated by some with 
severity, and by others with more justice, and, perhaps, by some, 
with a measure of kindness. Honest Elliot speaks fully of his 
faults, but is not unmindful of his virtues and his acquirements. 
With faithful and intelligent Allen, there was no disposition to exag- 
gerate his faults ; and it will not be said, that he was unmindful of 
his merits. The learned Savage, passes him without much respect, 
for honesty as a literary man, or for his value as a historian. In the 
hands of the late editor of Morton's Memorial, he fares better than 
F 



62 LECTURES ON 

he has before, for a long time. His estimate of this singular writer 
is candid, and, in our judgement, more accurate than many others. 
His virtues and his failings sleep together, and we would not have 
any of his errours or bad taste propagated at the present day ; and 
we believe there is no great danger of it, for his faults are not fashion- 
able with us. To imitate his very errors, would be very difficult, 
and would require more learning than men commonly have ; for 
those faults cost much labour and great memory. It is the fashion 
to neglect such writers as Mather ; the dress is antiquated, but we 
hope never to be entirely debarred, by the tyranny of fashion, from 
once in a while looking over Bunyan, and keeping company, for an 
hour or so, with Christian and his wife, in their homely progress on 
the way to heaven ; nor be obliged to throw away the quaint em- 
blems of the pious Quarles, or any of his thoughtful brethren, 
because they may seem, to some, uncouth in their guise. 

At the commencement of the second half century, from the first 
settlement of Massachusetts Bay, Penn began his colony, and laid 
out his city of Philadelphia, which grew more rapidly than any 
previous settlement on the continent. The founder was a rare man ; 
possessing talents, virtue, fortitude, perseverance, caiUion, benevo- 
lence, and toleration, with great political sagacity. He made a treaty 
with the natives, founded upon reciprocal advantages, which was 
faithfully kept for seventy years. He was a lawgiver, who built all 
his maxims on the principles of justice and a knowledge of human 
nature. His aim was for the best interests of man, as a reasonable 
being. He had suffered, and knew how to forgive. He had been 
persecuted, and had seen that persecution begot opposition, and 
opposition, strifes and bloodshed. He saw that knowledge and vir- 
tue were the pillars on which every political fabrick must be built, to 
endure any length of time. With broad and just views, this great 
lawgiver began his commonwealth ; and its rapid growth justified 
his claim to superiour sagacity and Avisdom. In the course of fifty 
years, Philadelphia took the start of older settlements ; and has 
never, in the slightest degree, lost her high claims to distinction. 
In 1749, Douglass says, that Philadelphia had two thousand and 
seventy dwelling houses, and eleven places of publick worship ; and 
that some deserving gentlemen had established " a laudable academy 
in Philadelphia, with a publick spirited design of encouraging lite- 
rature; that is, political and natural knowledge;" and mentions, 
also, that it was in a flourishing condition. This is the seminary, 
which was commenced by Franklin and his associates in 1742; ex- 
tended in 1749 ; and in 1753 was established as a college, and put 
under the charge of Rev. Dr. William Smith, who had a great repu- 
tation for polite literature ; and, at the same time, the Rev. Francis 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 63 

Allison was called in, as vice provost, and his labours contributed 
much to the prospects of the institution, and the general diffusion of 
literature in Pennsylvania and the neighbouring states. The city 
of Philadelphia has been more rapid, and, at the same time, more 
solid, in its growth, than any other in the annals of modern times. 
At the period when the first temple of learning was erected in the 
Athens of America, the ivy had mantled the age-stricken edifices of 
Cambridge. 

While Harvard College was continuing to flourish, under the fos- 
tering care of all classes in society ; Connecticut, having increased 
in population, sufficiently to begin to think of no longer being in- 
debted to her neighbours for seminaries of learning, commenced a 
collegiate institution in 1701. The first charter was a narrow one. 
It confined the trustees to the holding of lands, not exceeding five 
hundred pounds in value. One hundred pounds currency Avas 
granted, yearly, to support the semmary, and Saybrook was re- 
solved upon, as the proper place to begin the undertaking. Mr. 
Pierson, minister of Killingworth, was made rector. The assem- 
bling of students, generally, was at his house, while some remained 
under tutors at Saybrook. This division, at the threshold, was in- 
auspicious, but, after several serious disasters, the trustees fixed on 
New-Haven, for its location ; and in September, 1717, the first com- 
mencement was held there ; but it did not receive its name until 
September 12, 1718, Avhen a splendid commencement was got up for 
the occasion of giving it a name, and spreading its fame through the 
state. As at the establishment of Harvard College, requisitions 
were made, not only upon the government of the state, but on the 
friends of learning in England and in America. Elihu Yale, Esq., 
an East India merchant, bestowed stocks and books, to a considera- 
ble amount, and gave something of importance, by will ; but this 
bequest was, in some Avay, frustrated. Distinguished individuals 
in Connecticut gave freely, as did many others in Massachusetts 
and Rhode Island. Dummer, of the former province, and Brenton, 
of the latter, gave liberally in money and books. The patrons of 
the college abroad, were Sir Richard Blackmore, Sir Richard Steel, 
Drs. Bennett, Calamy, Woodman, HaUey, Bentley, Kennett, Ed- 
wards, and Mr. Henery, and Mr. Wliiston. Mr. Cutler was the se- 
cond rector, but soon resigned on becoming an episcopalian. In 
1723, the charter was enlarged. In 1725, Elisha Williams was 
chosen rector. In 1732, the general assembly of Connecticut 
granted the college fifteen hundred acres of land. They intended 
to follow in the precise steps of Harvard, in the great Avork of edu- 
cation ; for it was expressly " ordered, at the first founding of the 
college, that when no special provision was made by the trustees, 



64 LECTURES ON 

the laws of Harvard college, in the province of Massachusetts Bay, 
should be the rule." 

In 1728, the Rev. Dr. George Berkley, dean of Derry, afterwards 
bishop of Cloyne, fired by the most enthusiastic visions of the 
coming glories of the new world, left England for these western 
shores, with a charter for a college, to be established either at Ber- 
muda, or on the American continent. He soon saw that Bermuda 
would not answer his purpose, and came to Rhode Island, and there 
purchased a fine country seat, where he might reside, while he 
could take a view of the country at large. Liberal funds had been 
granted to the bishop and his associates for the noble undertaking, 
(it is said, to the amount of ninety thousand pounds sterling,) and 
which had been paid into the treasury. While the benevolent dean 
was casting about him, for the best place to fix himself and build his 
college, the British minister seized all the funds, for a marriage por- 
tion for the princess royal, and at one dash of his pen, destroyed the 
whole plan. The dean, finding all his hopes at an end, in 1732 made 
a deed of gift of his farm in Rhode Island, to the trustees of Yale 
College ; and directed that the income from it, should be appropria- 
ted to the support of three scholarships, to be bestowed upon the 
best classical scholars, in each year. This gift is called the Dean's 
Bounty, and has had a fine effect on the students of that college, by 
exciting a spirit of emulation among them. In 1740, Thomas Clapp 
succeeded Elisha Williams, who had resigned. In 1744, the char- 
ter was again enlarged, and the rector, by this charter, was in future 
to be called president ; and the president and trustees of Yale, has 
been the style of the corporation, ever since. The reputation of the 
bishop of Cloyne, has been a subject of panegyric, ever since his 
friend Pope ascribed, 

" To Berkley every virtue under heaven ;" 

and his name is commemorated at Yale, by the poets and orators of 
every passing year. Thus was the second literary institution of 
our country established by the exertions of the learned and the 
wise ; and has ever been a national blessing. Bishop Berkley was 
a scholar and a poet. A quotation, of a single line, from a short 
poem of his, is often made by the friends of this country : 

" Westward the course of empire takes its way.'" 

As the little poem is extremely scarce, having seldom been pub- 
lished in this country, I have transcribed the whole of it from the 
"Anniversary discourse, delivered before the New-York Historical 
Society," by one of the most distinguished scholars of our country, 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 65 

Gillian C. Verplank, Esq., now member of congress from the city of 
New-York. This single discourse is a mine of information to the 
lovers of American literature ; and to this work I am much in- 
debted for many valuable facts. 

The muse, disgusted at an age and clinic 

Barren of every glorious theme, 
In distant lands now waits a better time, 

Producing subjects worthy fame. 

In happy cUmcs, where from the genial sun, 

And virgin earth, such scenes ensue, 
The force of art by nature seems outdone, 

And fancied beauties, by the true. 

In happy climes, the seat of innocence. 

Where nature guides, and virtue rules ; 
Where men shall not impose, for truth and sense, 

The pedantry of courts and schools. 

There, shall be sung another golden age, 

The rise of empires and of arts ; 
The good and great, inspiring epick rage ; 

The wisest heads and noblest hearts. 

Not such as Europe breeds, in her decay 
Such as she bred, when fresh and young ; 

When heavenly flame did animate her clay, 
By future poets shall be sung. 

Westward the course of empire takes its way ; 

The four first acts already past, 
A fifth shall close the drama with the day ; 

Time's noblest oflTspring is the last. 

While this institution was rising up by the zeal of the benevolent 
and the good ; Connecticut was blessed by the government of Gur- 
don Saltonstall, as chief magistrate. He was a grandson of Sir 
Richard Saltonstall, one of the first settlers of Massachusetts Bay. 
The governor had been a preacher, but his fame for wisdom, in 
matters of civil and political hfe, was so extraordinary, that he was 
taken, as it were, by force, and made cliief magistrate ; and his case 
is an exception from the general charge of volatility in the people : 
for he Avas chosen from 1707 to 1724, without any diminution of 
publick respect, or without a rival. He was indeed a rare man ; 
■with a noble and commanding person— a generous and sympathizing 
D 2 9 



66 LECTURES ON 

heart, a fascinating eloquence, with profound erudition and cour- 
teous manners ; he was irresistible among the people, and first also 
in the synod, the council-chamber, and the judgement-hall. His 
wife was equally renowned, and lived longer to do good. She was 
a patroness of Yale and Harvard Colleges, to several churches, and 
other institutions of piety and learning. The house of Madam Sal- 
tonstall WEis resorted to by the intelligent and the good, as the 
abode of a prophetess, or a mother in Israel. It was a high honour 
to be accounted one of her friends ; for her discernment was such, 
that the hypocrite in religion, or the pretender in knowledge, was 
soon discovered and discarded. 

In every age of darkness and superstition, we find some minds 
superiour to prejudice, and which fearlessly rise above the mists 
around them. Such an one was Robert Calef, a merchant of Bos- 
ton, who was in business at the time of the delusion of witchcraft. 
He saw how the people were misled, by some of the higher classes 
in society. The governor. Sir William Phipps, was the most 
zealous prosecutor, aided and directed by his father confessor, 
Cotton Mather, and assisted by most of the commission, who tried 
those unfortunate persons, who suffered for this supposed crime. 
Calef wrote many private letters, and published some communica- 
tions in a pamphlet form ; but as the printers were alarmed at publish- 
ing frequently, he was induced to issue a volume on the subject. He 
opposed reason and common sense, to fanaticism and overstrained 
constructions of scripture ; and had many readers and more converts, 
than at that time dared avow their sentiments. The attack upon 
the Mathers, was considered by the parishioners of these influential 
divines, as the most imprudent and wicked of all slanders ; and 
they published a defence of their pastor, and treated Calef as a vile 
free-tliinker. The Rev. Increase Mather, President of Harvard 
College, to show the students in what horrour such a man as Calef 
should be held, had some of Calefs works burnt in the college 
yard; as impious and infidel productions were by the common 
hangman in England. But after all, common sense prevailed, and 
in fact, was never entirely lost sight of in the community ; for in 
looking over the records of the trials for witchcraft in 1692, 1 find 
that the court found it difiicult to bring the jury to convict the per- 
sons charged ; and that one foreman of the jury was dismissed by 
the court, for refusing to find a verdict on " the spectral evidence," 
as he could not justify it to his own understanding, nor find it 
sanctioned by any fact or rule in the scriptures. Calef lived to see 
his views of this delusion become the general opinion, and that of 
most of the commission ; for they were tried by judges, under a 
special commission, as is generally the case in England, when state 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 67 

policy requires such a course should be pursued. Calef died in 
Portsmouth, New-Hampshire, to which place he had removed to 
spend his old age with some of his children, loved and respected by 
all liberal minded men. 

Among the most accomplished scholars and writers of the age, in 
which he lived, was William Burnet ; who was for some time go- 
vernor of New- York and New- Jersey. His first speech to the le- 
gislature, after he came to that government, was celebrated for its 
ease, dignity, and elegance, and has seldom been equalled in this 
species of composition, now so common throughout the land. On 
the accession of George 2d, he was removed from his government 
to that of Massachusetts. In this office he had some difficulties ; 
but with him, as a politician, we have nothing to do at this time, but 
only as a scholar. His eloquence was of the first order ; his man- 
ners were most polished, which gave a grace to his great learning. 
He had laid tlie foundation of his knowledge, under the care of his 
father, a learned prelate, and of Sir Isaac Newton. In such a school, 
he was taught to think for himself, and he improved upon his 
lessons. Governor Burnet wrote several works of celebrity, one of 
which is, " an essay on the scripture prophecies." His taste, and 
talents, had a very salutary effect upon the literature of his day. 
He every where ridiculed the quaint style of the ecclesiastical 
writers of his time ; and the Mathers were the persons, generallyj 
against Avhose writings his polished shafts were levelled. He out- 
lived Cotton Mather about a year and a half. 

Contemporary with Burnet, was Jeremy Dummer, who was an 
honour to the literature of our country. While he was in college, 
the President, Dr. Increase Mather declared him "by far the best 
scholar that had ever been there ;" which his succeeding reputation 
evinced to be a just encomium. From Harvard, he went to study 
theology at Leyden ; but, although he was considered as great in 
this science, he preferred politics and jurisprudence to the creeds of 
Calvin, or the annotations of Whitsius, the professor of theology at 
Leyden. As agent for the province of Massachusetts Bay, his ser- 
vices were greater than his rewards ; for while he was writing most 
ably in defence of the charter, he was dismissed from his office ; not 
for any alleged misconduct, or neglect of his duties ; but he had 
been employed by Bolingbroke, and that was sufficient to destroy 
his popularity in Massachusetts. He had the misfortune, which is 
indeed a great one, to be in advance of the knowledge of the times. 
In the ages of rusticity and ignorance, the elegance of Chester- 
field would have passed for egregious foppery, and the science of Sir 
Humphrey Davy for necromancy. Jeremy Dummer was a great 



68 LECTURES ON 

friend to learning in this country, and was a very considerable 
patron to Yale College. 

Lt. Governor Dummer, vi^ho vv^as in office under Burnet, and was 
for a while, locum tenens of the chief magistracy, after the death of 
the governor, as he was before his arrival, was a man of considerable 
acquirements, and a very good officer. A friend to learning and 
piety, he gave a considerable sum to build the first house of publick 
worship in Hollis-street, in Boston ; and also, a noble farm in New- 
bury, in the county of Essex, to estabhsh an academy in that town ; 
at wliicli seminary, some of the first scholars of the present age re- 
ceived the rudiments of their education ; and it is now, notwithstand- 
ing the larger seminaries which have grown up in New-England, 
in very good credit. The building in which the school is kept, is on 
the farm which supports the instructors ; and is shaded by the trees, 
which more than a century ago, the munificent benefactor of le.arn- 
ing planted with his own hand. 

The charter of William and Mary, 1692, although opposed by 
many of the first settlers, was undoubtedly advantageous in many 
respects. The union of the old colony with that of Massachusetts 
Bay, was one of the beneficial results. A more parliamentaiy shape 
was given to legislative proceedings ; and a more distinct line was 
drawn between legislative, judicial, and executive proceedings. The 
patriarchal form, which is admissible in a small and infant com- 
munity, is not sufficiently powerful or regular when that commu- 
nity has considerably increased. As Cotton Mather would have 
said in such a case, the commands of Jacob were not sufficient to re- 
strain the ungoverned passions of his sons, Simeon and Levi, when 
his family had became large, and the Patriarch had grown old. Tlie 
profession of the law, had been confined to a few, and those few 
were restrained by the rides and regulations of the magistrates; but 
when this charter went into operation, the courts assumed a more 
legal character. It was under this charter, that the witches were 
tried ; but it should be remembered, at the same time, that this de- 
lusion was arrested in its course, by the happy thought, of bringing 
actions of defamation against those who made the foul and false as- 
persions upon their neighbours ; charging them with being luiited 
to the devil, and working deeds of darkness. In all the trials for the 
crime of witchcraft, there is no mention made of counsel to the pri- 
soners, or of their having counsel to advise or argue for them. 

Soon after this charter Avent into operation, a luminary arose in 
the law, whose fame will be as enduring Avith us as the names of 
Lyttleton, Coke, or Mansfield. John Read was graduated at Har- 
vard College in 1697, and prepared himself for the pulpit, and did 
actually preach for some time ; but indulging himself in a little wit 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. ^ 69 

and satire in his discourse, he was suspected of hberal, tolerant feel- 
ings in his creed, and tliat Avould not do. From the pulpit, he went 
to the bar, and here he eifected a complete revolution, or rather 
began a new era, in the history of American law. The long deed, 
conveying real estate, which then covered a sheet of parcliment, he 
reduced to its present simple and intelligible form ; and the ease and 
convenience of it was so apparent, that it was soon adopted. Read 
was often in the legislature from Boston, and for several years in 
the council. In either place, his opinions were law, for he was as 
fearless as intellectual ; and spoke as he thought, in great honesty 
of soul. He lived to a good old age, and died about twelve years 
before the late venerable John Adams came to the bar, who in- 
formed me, that he never saw Read ; but that his seniors, Gridley, 
Kent, Putnam, Pynchon, and others, had treasured many anecdotes 
of his wit, and many axioms of his law. Shirley, who was himself 
a lawyer, thought him the greatest lawyer that ever lived, and con- 
sulted him as an oracle. After liis appearance on the stage, the pro- 
fession of the law shared the publick honours with the clergy ; and 
by degrees, the spirit of the times gently crowded the clergy out of 
civil appointments ; and brought in those better acquainted with the 
practical things of life, and the ordinary business of men. New- 
York, had not an opportunity to advance, in this half century, as 
the other colonies. After the final settlement, by which the colony 
was ceded to the English, tlie people were frequently annoyed by 
bad governors ; this continued for several years after the commence- 
ment of the 18th century. Lord Cornbury greatly retarded the 
prospects of New- York, by his ignorance, avarice, and faithlessness 
to his duties ; but the statute book of the state, and the history of 
the quan-el with Burnet on his chancery decisions, prove that there 
were some good lawyers among them ; and probably, much other 
learning. The clergymen of the Dutch Reformed Church were, in 
general, well educated men ; but preaching in their own language, 
their usefulness was in a great measure lost to the people from 
New-England, Avho flocked in as emigrants to share so goodly a 
heritage. 

During the second half century, the literature of South Carolina 
began to be respectable. The professional men, before this time, 
had been educated in Europe ; and now found the want of a library, 
to keep pace, in some measure, with the improvements of the Eu- 
ropean continent. In the year 1700, a provincial library was esta- 
blished in Charleston, by the liberality of the lords proprietors and 
of the Rev. Thomas Bray. This introduced a love for reading, and 
made an impression upon the minds and tastes of that people, which 
has never been lost. In 1713, a free school was established, which 



*70 LECTURES ON 

was an extensive grammar-school, and where a good foundation for 
classical education was laid. Several private academies were set 
up, within a few years. England and the eastern colonies supplied 
them with teachers, for many years. A printer settled at Charles- 
ton, between the years 1720 and 1730. The first newspaper was 
printed there in 1730. The professions were, at that time, filled with 
men of learning, many of them from Europe. Mark Catesby, an 
English naturalist, came to South Carolina in 1722, and resided four 
years in the colony ; and was assiduous in promoting the knowledge 
of botany and zoology. He had lived in Virginia seven years pre- 
viously, engaged in the same pursuit; Sir Hans Sloan was his 
patron. James Blair began to lay the foundation of William and 
Mary College in 1691 ; but he was many years in getting it under 
way, for he did not take upon himself the duties of president, until 
1729, and then continued them until 1742. This good man labour- 
ed hard in his duties, but many of the youth of Virginia still went 
to England for an education. Dr. Blair was an able man. He 
published a work, the year he died, in London, in four volumes oc- 
tavo, " Our Saviour's divine sermon on the mount explained, and the 
practice of it recommended." It was, in that day, esteemed a work 
of great merit. 

As we have taken a strn'ey of our forefathers from their first 
landing on these shores, particularly as men of letters and science, 
and have given sketches of their characters as individuals, and have 
made some general remarks on the communities as they grew up, 
it will not be going out of the path I have prescribed to myself in 
the lectures, to take a summary view of them at the close of the first 
century of their existence. I have mentioned the little poem of the 
good Bishop of Cloyne, which at the period it was published was 
considered only a compliment from a pure and highly intellectual 
ecclesiastick, to a race of people he was fond of praising — it is now 
thought to have been prophetick — particularly the closing canto : 

" Westward the star of empire takes its way; 

The four first acts already past, 
The fifth shall close the drama with the day — 

Time's noblest offspring is his last." 

But it was only the sagacity of a great man, reasoning from cause 
to effect ; and we will, for a moment, see how far he was justified in 
making these predictions, as a sagacious observer of human nature, 
deeply read in the history of man. 

The century from the settlement of the northern provmce closed, 
exhibiting a people extended along the sea coast, for more than a 
thousand miles, of more or less maturity, some being of a more 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 71 

recent date, and others a few years older than those of Massachu- 
setts. Although not precisely alike in their manners and customs, 
yet these pi'ovincials were so nearly alike as to be embraced under 
general remarks, applicable to the most advanced portions of the 
country. They were, at this period, comparatively at ease, for the 
dread of extermination from the aborigines had entirely passed 
away. They had fought the savages, and had driven them back to 
remote forests and distant hunting grounds; and though often 
vexed and distressed by the hostile incursions of the Indians, still 
they had no fears of being destroyed by them. The Indians had, in 
the infancy of the colonies, come down upon them in their full 
strength and best possible concert, and were then beaten and 
broken, and if not destroyed, were so far dispirited and enfeebled, 
that nothing like regular warfare was afterwards carried on against 
the most populous parts of the country. The people, it is true, were 
often distressed at the complaints of the frontier settler, and were 
frequently called out to avenge his wrongs, which was generally 
done in such a manner as to keep the tribe of Indians who perpe- 
trated them quiet for some time. The growth of this country was 
indeed marked by wonders to the people themselves ; for the most 
sanguine of the emigrants did not contemplate so rapid a progress 
in their growth and strength. They had, in this century, not only 
fought the Indians for self-preservation, but after little more than 
fifty years of their existence, assisted the mother country in an at- 
tempt to -wrest Canada from the hands of the French, which for- 
tunately did not succeed ; for an intermixture of the French and 
English at that time would, in all probability, have had no good 
effect on the nationality of the provincials ; but as it was, the pri- 
mitive character of the people had not essentially changed from that 
of their fathers, when the century closed. They had wisely adopt- 
ed new rules and regulations in the administration of justice, and 
greatly expanded their views, and thoroughly changed their opi- 
nions on many subjects, but still the same spirit remained, and the 
same hardihood of character was apparent. They had, before this 
time, separated church from state, and had found many blessings 
flowing from this division. Men of distinction grew up in both de- 
partments of these intellectual and moral pursuits, who laboured 
hard for the general good, and have left their deeds on record. 

They had also established courts under their various charters, 
and civil justice took a new form. The primitive courts, though 
believed by the people themselves, when first instituted, to be the 
best method of getting at justice that could then be devised, had, 
long before the close of the century, become rather offensive to the 
good sense of the people at large. They found that there was some- 



72 LECTURES ON 

thing very arbitrary in discretion, that which the magistrates pos- 
sessed of defining the crime and of fixing the punishment at the 
same time ; and often malcing that criminal, which had never been 
considered a crime, misdemeanour, or offence, in any written code 
of laws that had ever been given to the world. It is amusing to 
look back to their records now, when the judges and those they 
condemned have gone to a perfect tribunal, and to mark the course 
of proceedings in those early days, when the magistracy, on the 
suspicion of an offence against what they thought the decorum of 
society, would ofte-n decree a more severe punishment than against 
a crime of a felonious nature. The people were too shrewd to be 
so governed forever ; and they found the courts of laAv, established 
upon proper principles, with judges sworn to administer justice ac- 
cording to fixed and settled laws, either the wisdom of many years 
experience, or the written law of the statute book, were far better 
than the arbitrary opinions and decisions of those esteemed even as 
wise and good, who liad no barrier against caprice, and who were 
imperfect, because they were men. 

At this period, the day of delusion had passed away, and the 
mists of superstition were fast dispersing before the rays of reason 
and the reign of common sense. This very delusion, however, was 
made a mean, under Providence, of hastening on the age of philoso- 
phical inquiry into the nature of man, and of the permissions of 
Deity in his government of the world. The blood of the victims of 
delusion, though they were few in number, was not without its use. 
It did not cry from the ground for vengeance, for it was shed by in- 
fatuated honesty ; but ages of eloquence and reasoning could not 
have done so much for the advancement of rational thinking as the 
sacrifice of these few lives did. There was an image of error left in 
the minds of the community which was held up against misguided 
zeal, and a too ready desire to punish offences, which has had a most 
salutary effect ever since. Tlie shades of immolated innocence 
haunted the severe in disposition, who are always inclined to super- 
stition, and restrained them from attempting to influence publick 
feeling, which they had a secret wish, no doubt, at all times to do. 
The momentary folly of the few was the permanent security of the 
whole. 

At this period, pi;blick schools had been long in operation in New- 
England, and the rich were made to educate the poor, not only in 
tlie common elements of learning, but in the higher walks of litera- 
ture, when they aspired to it. The colleges that had been esta- 
blished were fountains of useful knowledge, Avhose streams were 
flowing in all directions. The young men educated in these col- 
leges Avere, most of them, engaged, for several years after they had 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 73 

graduated, in the useful employment of teaching school in those 
places required by law to maintain a grammar school, and almost 
every town was sufficiently large to require one. Among other 
duties, the clergy, too, assisted in preparing youths for college. The 
influence of their labours had entered into every thing temporal, as 
well as spiritual ; and being now confined, by the separation of the 
government of the church from that of the state, to their o^vn dis- 
tinct duties, they had much more leisure to attend to improving 
their own minds, and those of their parishioners, than ever ; and to 
them, present generations are indebted for no inconsiderable portion 
of the literature of that day. By this time, the law had become a 
distinct profession, and several luminaries had arisen, who had 
changed the modes of transacting the business of the courts, and 
driven the race of pettifoggers, v/hich generally abound in a new 
country, (and did in this to a considerable extent,) at the first estab- 
lishment of courts, into disgrace and neglect. Learned physicians 
had gro^vn up, who Avere not only devoted to the healing art, but 
were making researches in the phenomena of nature, with great as- 
siduity and success. 

The press was well supported by the people, and held as one of 
the great safeguards of the rights and interests of freemen. The 
literati were fond of seeing themselves in print, and pamphlets and 
tracts issued, to gratify the curiosity and taste of the people. At 
this period, newspapers had been established, and were most valu- 
able vehicles of information. They were, in general, edited with no 
ordinary share of talent, and some of the first men in the country 
were engaged directly or indirectly in their support. Political 
rights were freely discussed in them, and their influence was felt in 
the most remote settlement of the country. Not only the proceed- 
ings of the British Parliament were communicated to the public 
through their columns, with the news of the day; but they were 
made serviceable in giving the people a knowledge and taste for the 
current English literature. Long extracts from authors of standard 
value were weekly diffused by these papers. England was, during 
this century, prolific in men of genius, and the great doctrines of 
civil liberty were taught in their writings, which in this country had 
a free circulation, if not in their own. Texts are often graced, and 
sometimes amended, by their commentaries; it was so in this 
country, in regard to every work on British liberty ; for here it was 
read without prejudice, and scanned without fear. The mind of 
man was awake to its true interests, in a country where there was 
neither hierarchy, nor aristocracy, nor furious democracy, to disturb 
the smooth and equal current of thinking and acting. They had 
often quarrelled with governors, and complained of royal neglect, 
G 10 



74 LECTURES ON 

and sometimes were gravely debating upon heresies and schisms ; 
but these things were not more than sufficient to give force and ac- 
tivity to their intellectual powers, and had no withering effect. The 
people, although prudent and saving, were not goaded by avarice, 
or sunk in voluptuousness, or dissipated by trifling amusements ; 
and these political and religious excitements were necessary to give 
proper tone to the mind. 

Commerce had, during this century, extended its humanizing in- 
fluence among the people, and trade was now doing what war pre- 
viously had done — making them acquainted with each other's wants 
and capacities. Their commercial enterprise, considering their 
means, was astonishing.* 

Their fisheries and lumber trade, with their ship building, pro- 
duced them a very considerable surplus over their importations 
from the mother country and the West India islands. They had 
found that the bosom of the earth was rich in iron ore, the true gold 
of a primitive people ; and they at this early period had established 
foundries, or bloomeries, as the works for manufacturing iron were 
then called, which were in a prosperous condition for many years 
afterwards. The clothing of the great mass of the people was fi'om 
their own flax and wool, wrought at their own firesides ; and if it 
did not allow them to dress sumptuously, it made comfortable arti- 
cles of wearing apparel. The forests were then abundant, and their 
dwellings were warm and convenient. The purest of streams 
watered their grounds, and their orchards produced in abundance, 
so that there was but little use of ardent spirits. 

Their military system was simple, yet perfect ; every man was 
enrolled who could carry a musket, and all were accustomed to the 
use of it. They obeyed the calls of their country with alacrity, and 
fought as long as their services Avere necessary : braver troops never 
stood on the battle field ; they were valiant without ferocity, and en- 
dured the hardships of war without the hopes of plunder. Military 
glory was with them a principle, not a passion. Military knowledge 
was with them a habit, not a profession. The plough, the axe, the 
saw, and the hammer, were the tools of their handy-craft — necessary 
implements of their daily avocation ; and the musket, and the sword, 
only implements of defence ; and thej^ were expert in all. They 
asked no Av^eath for their victories, they obtained no heraldric 
honours for their numerous instances of valour ; a consciousness 
of having discharged their duties as citizen soldiers, Avas all their re- 
ward. At the time we are now describing, they exhibited in their 
character all that is now embraced in the hopes and desires of na- 

♦ See Appendix, note A. 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 75 

tions, for liberty, for moral dimity, and for the rights of man. They 
were sons of trial, of perseverance, and enterprise, who had turned 
their afflictions and their exertions to advantage ; and made not only 
their enjoyments and privileges, but e\m. their misfortunes, a truly 
valuable lesson for themselves and for their posterity. 



LECTURE V. 



■ See their sons 



Before the bulwark of their dear rights drawn, 

Proud in their simple dignity, as runs 

The courser to the fair stream — on their thrones 

They sat, all kings, all people — ^they were free, 

For they were strong and temperate, and in tones 

Deep and canorous, nature's melody, 

They sung in one full voice the hymn of liberty. 

Peecival. 

From the beginning of the second century, reckoning from the 
commencement of the settlement of the province of Massachusetts 
Bay, there could not have been more than half a million of inhabit- 
ants in the colonies. Douglass, as late as 1749, calculates that there 
were three hundred and fifty-four thousand souls in New-England ; 
and it must be recollected, that it was the policy of the country to 
magnify these numbers, to appear as formidable as possible to the 
French in Canada, and their allies the Indians. This is very evi- 
dent when Douglass says there were ninety thousand fighting men 
in New-England at the time. This was too erroneous to deceive for 
a moment. The growth of all the colonies had been much retarded 
by sickness and wars. Nearly one half the pilgrims died the first 
three months after their landing. A wasting sickness came among 
the settlers of the province of Massachusetts Bay. Virginia had her 
share of sickness and the disasters of war. In 1622, three hundred 
and forty-seven of the Virginia colonists were massacred by the In- 
dians in one day, and a famine and pestilence ensued. The other 
colonies were sickly : in fact, aU new settlements are so ; numerous 
causes conspire to make them unhealthy. The population of the 
colonies was very much overrated at the commencement of the re- 
volutionary war. Burke and Chatham state the population to have 



76 LECTURES ON 

been three millions; but Franklin, who had better means of judging, 
puts the population at two ; and tliis was too higli for the free white 
population. The expeditions to take Canada, and tlie Indian wars, 
had proved fatal to the young men engaged hi defending their coun- 
try. Tliey were just about settling in life : but after all, this may 
not have been so great an evil as it was then thought to have been. 
If the Indians had not been constantly harrassing the settlers on 
the frontiers, the people would have settled extensively in this new 
country, and the advantage of schools, churches, and the good habits 
of a dense population, would have been lost. Their mai'ch of im- 
provement was slow, but the elements of their growth were pure; 
and if they gained slowly, they held their gains securely. The early 
settlers, who thought this a place of sojourning, not a home, were 
dead. A race had come up who knew no other country, except in 
sympathy with the feelings of their fathers, and who were content 
with their birth place. They had been, as they conceived, neglected 
and ill-treated in every change of affairs in the mother country. 
They had suffered from the bigotry and tyranny of the house of 
Stuart, and had been almost forgotten during the continuance of 
the Commonwealth. The colonies had, among themselves, no com- 
mon bond of union, nor concert in action. Virginia had harboured 
the royalists in the days of Cromwell, and New-England the regi- 
cides at the restoration of royalty. At the restoration, Charles IL 
was too much engaged in his pleasures to look after these colonies, 
from whence he did not expect to receive any money to support his 
love of indulgence. When the Stuarts were driven from the 
throne, the house of Orange was too busy in continental wars to 
think any more of us than as growing auxiliaries in future contests 
with France. When the house of Brunswick came to the throne, 
the policy of fighting France in this country was still pursued, and 
in fact become necessary; for France had a stupendous lineof forti- 
fieedons from Cape Breton to the Mississippi. These must be con- 
quered at all hazards, and at any expense. The colonies were loyal 
from principle and from habit ; but their hearts were not so warm 
for tlieir mother country as they once had been. The seeds of the 
revolution were scattered about the land at every act of unkindness 
or hardship they had felt from England. Some of her patriots and 
philosophers had taken a deep interest in the growth of the western 
world ; and unquestionably looked forward when injured virtue 
would find here a safe retreat. Berkley, Milton, Sidney, and Hollis, 
saw sufllcient promise in the New World to induce them to believe 
that we should soon become an important people. 

With a little bickering about some disputed points, the colonies 
went on as usual in the course of knowledge and civilization. If 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 77 

they were sometimes a little turbulent, no fears of permanent diffi- 
culties were entertained by the British nation. The nation at large 
knew but little about us ; and in truth they have always been found 
dull of comprehension in relation to this country. They knew 
nothing of the " fine spirits touch'd to fine issues" who had gro\vn 
up here. They did not believe that a handful of people who had 
been romantick and silly enough to leave the delights of polished so- 
ciety, could have been the progenitors of such a race of men as then 
lived in this country. They could not believe that we had enlarged 
the great lessons of freedom, and at the same time had practised on 
them. 

Among those to whom the country is much indebted for an at- 
tempt at diffusing knowledge, was Thomas Prince, the chronologist. 
He was graduated at Harvard College, in 1707. He studied divinity, 
and in 1709 commenced his travels in Europe, and did not return 
until 1717. His manners were formed in the best society, and his 
information was of the most extensive range. He was said to be 
the most learned man of his time, excepting Dr. Cotton Mather; and 
even Mather's eulogists would acknowledge that Prince had more 
common sense than their Magnus Apollo, and had in all respects a 
better balanced mind. The writings of Prince are numerous and 
valuable. He published an account of the first appearance of the 
Aurora boreahs ; a great many sermons, obituary notices, and works 
on occasional subjects ; but his great work is what he called a Chro- 
nological History of New-England. He began at the creation of 
the world, and he made a work of immense research and learning, 
but it is to be regretted that he did not bring it down to a later period. 
This would probably have been effected if he had not felt mortified 
that his great labours were not more highly appreciated at the time. 
The present age, however, has honoured Prince with a new edition 
of the " chronological history ;" and the work is exEunined with great 
interest. His was a common fate then. The popular productions 
have gone down to oblivion, or many of them, wliile this work is 
considered among the most valuable of the kind. This chronology 
was commenced early in life, and finished late. Tlie whole of it 
was not published until 1736. 

Those distinguished in political and civil life had hitherto been 
found among those learned in all the wisdom of the schools ; but at 
the commencement of this half century, a youth appeared in the 
common walks of life, who had never visited the academick shades, 
nor gone up to the fountains of learning, who was destined to pro- 
duce almost a new era of thinking and reasoning in the moral world. 
This man was Benjamin Franklin. He was born in Boston, in 1706, 
and began his publick course when quite a boy. Being connected 
G2 



78 LECTURES ON 

with a newspaper, he tried his juvenile hand at commentaries and 
criticisms on the current topics of the day, and soon found that this 
great world was not so wisely governed as it was thouglit to be. 
At midnight he wrote papers and threw the manuscript into his 
brother's office, who often published them, supposing them to have 
come from very higli authority. Flattered by his success, he de- 
termined to become a mender and director of the great world him- 
self; and his destiny was in accordance with his determination. In 
looking about him, he found that he had touched the hallowed ves- 
sels of the Lord with too bold a hand, and that the thrift he bent 
his mind to, would not so readily be found in New-England as else- 
where, after this offence. He wandered to Pennsylvania, and from 
thence found his way to England, and back to Philadelphia. In 
that city he matured his plans, and lived to see them all successful. 
Shrewd, cautious, enterprising, and watchful of the signs of the 
times, with a business talent, and great industry, he had the advan- 
tage of most men. Educated as he was, he could readily associate 
with aU classes of society, and understood them all perfectly. He 
knew the wants, wishes, habits, and powers of every grade of life, 
from the labourer in the log cabin, anxious to secure " the sustaining 
crust of bread" for his helpless cliildren, to the splendid wretchedness 
of the palaces of princes, and to the thorny pillow of the ambitious 
statesman. He conversed upon all the affairs of life in a more practical 
manner than Socrates ever did with the Athenians; and at the same 
time he carried on his plans for his country with the ability of Peri- 
cles, and without one particle of that ancient statesman's profusion. 
The gods permitted him to serve the public for a very long life. He 
sometimes wrote for the humblest capacities, as in Poor Richard's 
Sayings, and at other times, taught the philosophers of Europe to 
bring the fire from the heavens and confine it in harmless jars of 
glass. He examined minds as one would take a survey of a field, 
and could at once tell what was the natural soil, and what had been 
the culture of it. It could not be said of him, that he was a great 
man in a small village, for he belonged to his country, and acted 
for mankind. He was an economist in all things ; he would use 
the lightning's flash he had stolen from the heavens to assist him in 
picking up a pin in the street ; not from avarice, although he knew 
the worth of property, but to set an example to others. He not only 
wished, like the good king of France, that every one might have a 
fowl in his pot for dinner, but Franklin added to the same hearty 
wish, the means of procuring it in an honest way. 

Among the self-taught men of that age was David Mason, a fol- 
lower of Franklin, and perhaps his pupil. It is certain they 
held a correspondence upon the subject of electricity; he was the 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 79 

first who erected lightning rods in New-England, and also the first 
who delivered lectures on natural philosophy as connected with 
electricity. His experiments excited the wonder of some of the 
good people of Massachusetts, and they required the opinion of a 
number of the clergy upon the morality and propriety of attending 
his lectures, intimating something more than a suspicion that such 
things must have been performed by the " black art.'''' The clergy, 
as they have generally been, were on the side of science ; and the 
lectures went on unmolested, but with some suspicions still lingering 
among the ignorant. In the war of 1755, Mason was an officer in 
the corps of engineers, and was distinguished for bravery and science. 
When the American revolution opened, he was foremost among the 
patriots ; and his knowledge of practical gunnery, and of fortification, 
was of incalculable ser\'ice to the army. Chemistry then was but 
little known in this country, but he Avas acquainted with the science 
as then understood in Europe ; and was called upon by the makers 
of gun powder and cannon to assist them in the art. He was field- 
officer, teacher of tacticks, and superintendant of arsenals during the 
whole war ; such a man as Colonel Mason Avas wanted every where. 
The character of this distinguished officer should find a place in his 
country's list of heroes ; it is only as a man of intellect and science 
we name him. 

Amidst the attentions of our people to all theological specidations, 
the exact sciences were not neglected. They had received a great 
deal of attention ever since the first settlement of the country. Sher- 
man, we have already mentioned, was followed by Danforth, who 
was also distinguished in this branch of science : in 1644, he pub- 
lished an almanack, and a calculation of the orbits of comets. He 
has been distinguished as one of the most sentimental preachers of 
his time, and his eloquence was of the first order. He died in 1674, at 
the age of forty-eight. Who ffiled up the space as an almanack 
maker from his time to that of Daniel Travis, I have not as yet dis- 
covered. The earliest number of the series of almanacks I have 
yet seen of Travis' is one of 1721, which I have now in my posses- 
sion ; and on comparing it with the almanacks of 1827, I have no 
hesitation in saying that it is no ways inferiour to the latter. 

In 1731, Nathaniel Ames, who then styled himself " Student in 
Physic and Astronomy," pubhshed an almanack, which was con- 
tinued until his death, in 1765. It was a most useful book, filled 
with all the necessary astronomical calculations for the j'ear, and 
with patriotic remarks and moral reflections. In one of his numbers, 
I think that of 1745, he indidges in a prophecy of the future glories 
of his country. Nothing can exceed the accuracy of his calculations 
in the records of human anticipation. Perhaps he had shoAvn among 



80 LECTURES ON 

the common people a little quackery in displaying his knowledge, 
but this was harmless, for the most enlightened of his friends es- 
teemed him as a sagacious and valuable man ; and one who was 
consulted in domestick and political arrangements, by all around him. 
After the speech of Lord Chatham on the repeal of the Stamp Act, 
Ames got up a subscription to erect him a statue. It exhibited the 
gratitude of the good yeomanry of Dedham to the eloquent premier, 
but did not show any great advancement in the art of sculpture. 
Nathaniel Ames was the father of Fisher Ames, whose name and 
writings we shall have occasion to mention in another lecture. 

Almanacks were more connected with literature, and particularly 
with history, in that day, than at the present time ; for it was the 
general practice of learned men to keep an almanack in which to 
record all the passing events on blank leaves, or in marginal notes. 
I have one of these in my possession which belonged to Samuel 
Sewall, chief-justice of Massachusetts, in 1718, filled from the begin- 
ning to the end with notes upon current affairs, domestick, pub- 
lick, or national, both in English and Latin. This same chief justice 
Sewall was himself a writer of distinction at that time, and had be- 
fore, in 1690, published "answers to inquiries respecting America;" 
a work of great merit for its accuracy in its details. No man could 
think of leaving the world at that period, without leaving something 
on some subject, in divinity, Avhich was in after ages to be the basis 
of his fame ; but which, most probably, these after ages will not 
give themselves much trouble about. Judge Sewall, a learned and 
great man in his profession, wrote " proposal touching the accom- 
plishment of prophecies ;" " Phcenomina quaedam Apocalyptica, or 
a description of the new heavens and new earth." 

"VSTiile mathematicks and theology were in a prosperous state, his- 
tory was not neglected. William Douglass, M. D., a physician in 
Boston, was one of the number who were publishing accounts of 
this country. He was noticed for the freedom of his thoughts and 
remarks. Every one acknowledged that he was learned ; but his 
, sarcasms made him many enemies. He was indefatigable in col- 
lecting materials for a history of the colonies ; and he published what 
he called " a summary," or an historical accoimt of the British settle- 
ments in 1749 and 1753. Honest Elliot says, that Douglass Avrote 
in a slovenly style ; but he had caught something of the prejudice 
which tradition had brought down to his own time. Douglass had, 
it is seen by his Avritings, no great regard for the strict doctrines of 
the Mathers, or perhaps for any religious principles taught at that 
time. The weight of private character in one's own neighbourhood 
enters very fully into liis public fame, and it is impossible to separate 
them entirely even at a distance ; but as nearly a century has elapsed 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 81 

since these impressions were made upon the minds of the good peo- 
ple of Boston, it may be proper now for ns to give them up, and 
look at his productions alone. His learning was not confined to one 
branch of information. He was a botanist, more learned than his pre- 
decessors, and advocated the doctrine, at that early period, on which 
Darwin founded, half a century afterwards, his splendid poem, "The 
Loves of the Plants." Douglass turned his attention to statisticks, and 
political economy, before the latter science had received a name ; 
and this information is scattered through his historical works ; but 
it did not suit the taste of the times as well as wonderful events and 
miraculous providences. He was the decided enemy of Cotton Ma- 
ther, and they were at daggers-drawn while Mather Avas living, and 
Douglass did not spare the fame of his enemy when he was dead. 

The natural history of New-England, and her botanical treasures, 
had attracted the attention of Paul Dudley, F. R. S., chief justice of 
Massachusetts, who wrote some papers upon these subjects, which 
were published in the philosophical transactions of the Royal So- 
ciety, London, 1720 and 1721, which are of a high order of writing, 
and show great observation and acuteness. Douglass pursued his 
inquiries perhaps farther than his neighbour Dudley, the subject 
being more intimately connected with his professional pursuits. 
The historians of this country have been more indebted to Douglass 
than they have been willing to allow. The most enlightened phy- 
sicians acknowledge that he wrote upon professional subjects with 
great talent and information. Among his papers on medical subjects 
is a dissertation on the " Cynanche Maligna," which prevailed in 
Boston in the year 1736 ; and in that and subsequent years swept 
off a great many of the children, and some full grown persons 
Mathematicians, too, consider Douglass as in the front rank of their 
host ; and as proofs of the correctness of these opinions they refer 
to the almanack he published in 1733-4, styled the "Mercurius No- 
vanglicanus, by William Nadir, S. X. Q." This work, besides all 
the astronomical calculations common in such a publication, con- 
tains a catalogue of historical events in chronological order, which 
has saved his successors, in writing history, a great many laborious 
hours. It is unsafe to trust to the opinions which Douglass gave of 
his contemporaries, for he Avas often goaded to bitter resentments 
against those who attempted to diminish his influence and tarnish 
his fame for want of conformity to the creeds of the day. His wri- 
tings do not directly show either infidelity or absolute laxity of 
morals, both of which he was charged with ; and, if tradition may 
be relied on, with justice. In matters of a general nature, or of a 
professional cast, where his enmities did not enter, he is the best 
authority of the times in which he wrote, notwithstanding all the 

11 



82 LECTURES ON 

imputations wliich have been cast on his fame. I have been more 
particular in this notice of Douglass, because he has been so often 
plundered and so long neglected ; leaving the great Author of his 
being to judge of his morals and religion. 

One branch of metaphysicks, that which treats of superiour beings, 
and of the abstract nature and the attributes of God, had long been 
a study with the divines of every denomination in this country; 
but that part of the science which analyzes the human mind, and 
treats of its capacities, affections, passions, and reasoning powers, 
had not been studied in this, nor in any other country, until the great 
metaphysician, John Locke, arose in England, who brought the ener- 
gies of the most comprehensive power to bear upon the philosophy 
of the mind; and gave new views to the enlightened upon this sub- 
ject. Some of the distinguished men in America, delighted Avith 
this study, so congenial to their habits of investigation of spiritual 
essences, pursued the path of Locke with great ability and success. 
Among these was Jonathan Edwards, who was a native of Connec- 
ticut, and was born about the year 1702, and was graduated at Yale 
College, 1720. He was for some time settled in Northampton, in 
Massachusetts, afterwards at Stockbridge, in the same common- 
wealth ; and from this latter place was removed to Princeton, New- 
Jersey, as president of that college, to succeed President Burr ; but 
President Edwards did not live long to serve his fellow men in that 
conspicuous situation. The great work of President Edwards is 
entitled " The Freedom of the Will." This raised his reputation to 
an equality with the first metaphysicians of his age in this country 
and in Europe. This work was for many years read as a classick 
in metaphysicks in several of our colleges. The style in many parts 
of this work is obscure and involved ; and it is thought, by some 
teachers, too abstruse for young men in that science ; and in fact it is 
now almost entirely superseded by Stewart, Locke, Reed, Brown, 
and others. It requires the grasp of a vigorous and mature mind 
to master such a work as Edwards on the Will, without previous 
training in the more simple elements of the science. The freedom 
of the will is a subject of inquiry which commenced with the first 
man, and will end only with the last; and will never be thoroughly 
explained by any one ; but most certainly it is no common mind 
that can produce any thing worthy of notice on such a mysterious 
subject. 

President Edwards wrote other treatises ; one on " the history of 
redemption;" "a defence of the doctrine of original sin;" and also 
" a treatise on the affections," a work much read by all classes of 
christians of the present day ; and another upon the " nature of vir- 
tue ;" in the whole, eight volumes. When Edwards wrote, it was 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 83 

thought that abstruse subjects were not susceptible of embellishment; 
but Stewart has convinced the world that there is no subject so 
knotty and knarled which the skill of a master cannot adorn and 
polish with the charms of imagination. — Poetry is now the handmaid 
of philosophy. 

President Edwards had a son, Jonathan Edwards, D. D., who was 
president of Schenectady College, and distinguished himself as a 
writer upon metaphysicks. He wrote an answer to Dr. Chauncey's 
work, " Salvation for all men," and likewise to Dr. Samuel West's 
essays upon liberty and necessity, and many think he was superior 
to his father ; certainly, his writings are more lucid than his fa- 
ther's ; but few men ever equalled the author of the Freedom of the 
Will in strength and depth. 

Since the invention of printing, the world has been flooded with 
scholastick and controversial divinhy ; which has been read for 
a while, and then dropped into oblivion, without the regrets of any 
one. Then some new subject, in the same field, would be started and 
pursued with great animation, for a while, and then take the fate of 
the preceding^ one. We may talk, with a smile, of the dulness of 
the " convent's shade," and ridicule tomes written upon monosylla- 
bles. It is easy to condemn, with a word, what we have not seen, 
and do not understand ; but no one, well acquainted with the works 
of these laborious metaphysicians, and wranglers upon every thing 
of matter and mind, will hesitate, notwithstanding all their quaint- 
ness, far-fetched illustrations, and singular inductions, to ascribe to 
them the merit of laying the foundations of modern knowledge. 
There is now to be found, in their moth-eaten pages, Avit, satire, argu- 
ment, and, sometimes, taste, sentiment, and even elegance, with 
worlds of learning. There are other considerations, which should 
make this class of men dear to us, for, in all their religious discus- 
sions, some glorious scintillations of thought, upon civil and politi- 
cal rights, were struck out, and were caught by, and illumed other 
minds, engaged in other pursuits. 

About the year 1763, a question respecting the introduction of 
episcopal bishops in the American colonies, was agitated in this 
country, which brought out some of the first literary characters 
then in it. The publications on this controversy were much read 
at the time, and infused into the people a love of attending to every 
thing relating to their rights in religious and political matters. The 
Rev. East Apthorp, rector of the episcopal church in Cambridge, 
near Boston, was the champion for the introduction of the bishops ; 
he was seconded in this, by several able and conscientious men ; 
Dr. Samuel Seabury, afterwards the first bishop of Connecticut ; 
Dr. Samuel Johnson, and others, gentlemen known for their learning 



84 LECTURES ON 

and piety. The opposition to this doctrine consisted of the most 
powerful array of talents which ever appeared on any question, in 
this country, except that of independence. Dr. Chauncey, of Bos- 
ton, a great scholar and divine, was among this number ; he was 
then in the full maturity of his faculties ; he wrote with erudition, 
firmness, and decision ; and all were delighted with his display of 
learning and patriotism. He was then nearly sixty years of age. 
Dr. Jonathan Mayhew, of Boston, engaged in this controversy. 
He was the ablest metaphysical gladiator of the age in which he 
lived. He was then in the prime of manhood, possessing a fearless- 
ness, and a hardihood of character, which nothing but death could 
subdue ; rich in the learning of his day, and ready, at any moment, 
to take his part in any thing which would benefit his country. He 
saw the Apocalypse of liberty, and felt its inspiration. The signs 
of the times were full of moment and importance. He was in 
communion with the bold spirits on the other side of the water, 
Lardner, Benson, HoUis, Kippis, and others. In the pride of his 
strength, he came down upon ecclesiastical corruptions, and the 
tyranny of religious establishments : with the zeal of a reformer, 
he tore the tiara and broke the crosier for interfering with civil mat- 
ters. His temper was warm, and, like other reformers, he often 
went farther than he intended, but no one could charge him with 
the slightest degree of hypocrisy. He dared to think for himself, 
and openly to avow his thoughts on every subject relating to reli- 
gion or civil policy. He discovered no regard for the divine rights 
of kings ; and in a sermon preached on the 31st day of January, the 
anniversary of the death of Charles I., he spake more freely than 
any one had ventured to speak before, upon the character of the 
monarch who had been styled the royal martyr. There seemed 
not the slightest disposition in his mind to canonize him. Mayhew 
died at the age of forty-six, with a nervous fever, brought on by 
intense application to his studies and parochial duties. His heart 
was a noble and fearless one, as ever palpitated in the bosom of 
man, and his grave was wet by the tears of patriots. Religious 
freedom is connected with civil in this and other countries, and at 
all times. In the memoirs of Thomas Hollis, there is a fine minia- 
ture likeness of Dr. Mayhew, with a short notice of him as a chris- 
tian and patriot ; and iii the library of Harvard university, a portrait 
from the pencil of Smibert. Dr. Mayhew published voluminously 
upon controversial divinity ; and his works are very considerably 
read by the scholars of our time, who are desirous of estimating the 
talents of those who are gone, and to whom we are indebted for the 
light they left us. After all, the fears these good men entertained 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 85 

of English bishops were probably imaginary; what harm have the 
catholick bishops done since ? 

In this third half century, there were several colleges founded in this 
country. The first of these was Nassau Hall, or the college of New- 
Jersey. This institution was founded in 1746, at Elizabethtown ; from 
this place it was removed to Newark, in 1747, and in 1757 to Prince- 
ton, where it now is. It was then under the superintendance of Aaron 
Burr, who was a graduate of Yale College, in the class of 1735. 
To have found such a man was a most auspicious beginning, for he 
was learned, and indefatigable in his duties, and fulfilled them from 
inclination as well as from principle. Such a man does much by 
example, as well as by precept, to make his pupils scholars and 
christians. He was considered as an eloquent man, and, it is said, 
that many of the preachers who came from that college, kept his 
manner alive for a series of years after the good man's death. 
President Burr was succeeded by his father-in-law, Jonathan Ed- 
wards, of whom we have spoken in this lecture, and under his care 
the college continued to flourish, and sent forth well-informed young 
men for church and state. 

Columbia College, in the city of New- York, was founded in 1754, 
and was then called King's College. The change of name was made 
at the revolution. This institution was founded by several pious, 
learned, and enterprising gentlemen at New- York, consisting of 
Lieut. Governor De Lancy, Dr. Barclay, Drs. Johnson, of Connec- 
ticut, and Chandler, of New-Jersey, Joseph Murray, the attorney 
general of the province, and most of the literati of the state, who lent 
a helping hand to the good work. It requires a great deal of nursing 
to build up an institution of learning. Dr. Samuel Johnson, re- 
nowned at that time and since in the republick of letters, was the 
first president, and under his care the college grew into repute, and 
has since that period had the honour of producing some of our first- 
rate statesmen and orators, and men of letters. Dr. Johnson was an 
author, and wrote a treatise upon logick, and one upon ethicks, which 
were issued from the press of Dr. Franklin, then residing at Phila- 
delphia, 1752. Dr. Johnson afterwards published a Hebrew gram- 
mar, which was in use in some of the colleges until it was superse- 
ded by the Hebrew grammar of the learned Dr. John Smith, pro- 
fessor of the languages at Dartmouth College. 

In 1764, a college was founded in Rhode-Island ; the Rev. James 
Manning, of New-Jersey, had the honour of being the prime mover 
in this enterprise, and was elected the first president of this college. 
Samuel Elam, Esq., was one of its principal benefactors in its in- 
fancy, but the college now bears the name of its present patron, 
H 



86 LECTURES ON 

Nicholas Brown, Esq., of Providence. It is at this moment under 
happy auspices. 

Dartmoiitli college was incorporated in 1762. It is situated in 
the town of Hanover, in the state of New-Hampshire. This col- 
lege was founded by Dr. Eleazer Wheelock, a man of great benevo- 
lence and learning. A school had been established at Stockbridge, 
in Massachusetts, by the Rev. John Sergeant, about the year 1743. 
This seminary was commenced for the benefit of the Stockbridge 
tribe of Indians ; but he had hardly begun this pious labour, when 
he was removed from it by death. Dr. Wheelock attempted to re- 
vive this school, and, for this purpose, solicited donations in Europe 
and America. He opened it at Lebanon, and called it Moore's 
academy. Before this time. Dr. Wlieelock had contemplated found- 
ing a college somewhere on Connecticut river, and the Earl of 
Dartmouth had promised his assistance to the undertaking. Hano- 
ver was fixed upon as the most suitable place for its site. Moore's 
school was removed there also, but Avas not connected with the col- 
lege. Besides the Earl of Dartmouth, there were several other 
benefactors, King George HI., the Countess of Huntingdon, and 
others of eminence, in England ; and John Adams, Dr. Franklin, 
John Phillips, and Samuel Phillips, with others, of this country, 
lent a helping hand to the establishment of this seminary. Dr. 
Wheelock was going on prosperously, when the revolutionary war 
broke out. The students necessarily became soldiers, and the build- 
ing a garrison. The scholars read the classicks with arms in their 
hands, and, to use an expression of the second president, " Mars 
was made the protector of Mercury." After the war was over, 
this institution flourished, and has sent forth her proportion of emi- 
nent men, in every age of her struggles, of which she has had her 
share. Out of her history has grown one of the most important 
decisions, in fixing the stability of property and the rights of char- 
ters, that is to be found on the records of our federal judiciary. 

It is greatly to the honour of our coimtry, that, on every occa- 
sion that has required talents of any sort, she has readily produced 
them, whether the subject presented was literary, scientific, or poli- 
tical. We have already spoken of our mathematicians, and of their 
labours in various ways ; but in no instance was their merits more 
conspicuous, or their knowledge so thoroughly tested, as when the 
planet Venus made a transit over the disk of the sun in 1761. Great 
preparations were made in England and France, as well as in this 
country, to seek the best places on the globe for observations at the 
time. In this country, some of our first minds were deeply engaged 
in making the most minute and accurate notices of this event. 
Ewing, Rittenhouse, Smith, Williamson, West, and Winthrop, and 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 87 

many others, published accounts of this phenomenon ; and the phi- 
losophers of Europe have acknowledged, that those of America 
were the most accurate of all that were published. These men were 
not mere mathematicians, but were also distinguished for their 
knowledge of letters. The Rev. John Ewing, D. D., a native 
of Maryland, bom in 1732, and graduated at New-York College, in 
1755. He was settled as a mmister in Philadelphia, and was chosen 
provost of the university of Pennsylvania in 1777, and lived to a 
good old age. John Blair Linn, D. D., his colleague, wrote the obi- 
tuary of his venerable friend in a style of surpassing elegance. Of 
Rittenhouse, it is difficidt to speak without seeming exaggeration. 
He was a self-taught man ; born in Pennsylvania in 1752, he was a 
mathematician from his cradle. He perfected himself in the art of 
clock-making by his own ingenuity. Newton's principia was mas- 
tered by him without any assistance. From that he went to Jiux- 
ions, and, for awhile, thought himself the original inventor. It is 
true, he was in a good degree a genuine inventor, but not an origi- 
nal one. It is often the fate of uneducated geniuses, to spend much 
time on subjects, the discovery of which was unknown to them, but 
with which former ages have been familiar. He invented an orrery, 
as he called his planetarium, which far exceeded, in accuracy and 
extent, all that had been known before. After his publication of his 
observations on the transit of Venus, he became extensively knovm 
in Europe as well as in this country, and loaded with academic ho- 
nours — L. L. D., F. R. S., &c., were added to his name. He Avas 
president of the philosophical society of Philadelphia. Dr. Rush 
wrote his obituary notice, and others strove to make his fame bear 
some proportion to his merit. Barlow, in his Vision of Columbus, 
speaks of him among the great men that the hero saw in " coming 
time," who were to bless their country by Hie power of their under- 
standing. 

" Thus heard the hero — while his roving view 
Traced other crowds that liberal arts pursue ; 
When thus the Seraph — Lo, a favourite band, 
The torch of science flaming in their hand ! 
Through nature's range their ardent soul inspire, 
Or wake to life the canvass and the lyre. 
Fixt in sublimest thought, behold them rise, 
Superiour worlds unfolding to their eyes ; 
Heav'n, in their view, unveils the eternal plan, 
And gives new guidance to the paths of man. 

See the sage Rittenhouse, with ardent eye, 
Lift the long tube and pierce the starry sky ; 



88 LECTURES ON 

Clear in his view the circling systems roll, 

And broader splendours gild the central pole. 

He marks what laws the eccentrick wanderers bind, 

Copies creation in his forming mind, 

And bids, beneath his hand, in semblance rise, 

With mimick orbs, the labours of the skies ; 

There wondering crowds with raptured eye behold 

The spangled heavens their mystick maze unfold ; 

While each glad sage his splendid hall shall grace. 

With all the spheres that cleave the ethereal space." 

Benjamin West, another eminent mathematician, was also a self- 
taught philosopher. He was for sometime a professor of mathema- 
ticks and natural philosophy in Providence college, and very much 
distinguished in his branches. Pike, the author of the Arithmetick, 
which most of us have dozed, plodded, or fretted over, informed me, 
that West was one of the most extraordinary men in the science of 
numbers he had ever met with. This talent for mathematical in- 
quiries is almost as common in our country as the inventive capa- 
city. There is scarcely a village which does not contain some 
gifted man in that way. I have known a malt-seller, and a school 
master in an obscure country town, teaching at six dollars per 
month, who were among the best instructors in mathematicks that I 
ever knew : and at the present time the island of Nantucket is dis- 
tingiiished for mathematicks. The Folgers have, for more than a 
century through successive generations, watched the phenomena of 
the heavens, and given the result of their observations to the publick. 

Professor Winthrop, of Harvard College, probably made the 
highest exertions to notice the transit of Venus, of any American. 
In 1761, he sailed to St. Johns, in Newfoundland, for that purpose, 
and on the sixth day of June of that year, had a fine clear morning 
to make his observations. Winthrop was an accomplished scholar, 
in most branches of learning, and wrote Latin with great facility and 
in great purity. He published treatises on comets, earthquakes, 
&c. was deeply read in divinity, and was a very pious man. He 
said of revelation, perhaps, what no mathematician ever said before 
— " the light thrown upon the doctrine of a future state, (meaning 
by revelation,) amounts with me to demonstration." It has been 
too often supposed that philosophy and deep research were inimical 
to religion ; but this has seldom been the case, certainly not in our 
country ; for the wise and the learned, have seen and felt the ne- 
cessity of a future state, to satisfy their longings after that know- 
ledge which they believed existed, and yet was unfathomable by the 
intellect of man, in his present state of existence. The weak fol- 
lowers of some human creed, have too often taken a denial of its 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 89 

truth and efficacy, for a disbelief in the great doctrines of revela- 
tion. The higher the views, the more penetrating the ken ; and the 
greater the abihty to examine, the more forcibly does man feel his 
nature, and the more ardent are his aspirations that it may be pu- 
rified and elevated. 



-^©J^- 



LECTURE VL 



God gave to man power to feel, to think, to will, and to act ; and made him 
responsible for this prerogative ; whoever, then, has the gift of tongues, let 
him use it ; whoever holds the pen of a ready writer, let liim dip it in the ink- 
horn ; or whoever has a sword, let him gird it on, for the crisis demands our 
highest efforts, both physical and mental. The soul has its nerves as well as 
the body, and both must be put in tono for service. 

Old Sermon. 

The next epoch, that called forth the talents of our countrymen, 
was the attempt of the British ministry to tax the colonies without 
their consent. Not content with the monopoly of the trade of the 
colonies, they wished to draw a revenue from them, by imposing 
taxes in the form of duties on certain articles of common consump- 
tion. This was at first resisted by petitions, remonstrances, and ar- 
guments from every portion of the country. They did not regard 
as a grevious matter the duties imposed : it was the declaration 
which accompanied this taxation which was so offensive, of their 
right to tax the colonies, at all times, and in all cases whatsoever. 
The manner of enforcing these acts of Parliament was equally of- 
fensive. The custom-houses, which had been regulated with the 
usual lenity of collecting all colonial duties, were instructed to use aU 
sorts of severity to bring the people at once to their allegiance and 
obedience. Informers and spies were scattered through the coun- 
try, and behaved with all the insolence of petty tyrants ; still their 
fears of the resentments of a people, never known for timidity, in- 
duced them to wish to have the appearance of acting legally, if un- 
kindly. To do this, they applied to the courts for icrits of assist- 
ance. The courts hesitated : this process had never been knovm 
before in the colonies. The writ was considered in the nature of a 
star-chamber proceeding, and against the great principles of Magna 
H2 13 



90 LECTURES ON 

Charta. The custom-house petitioners obtained a rule on those in- 
terested to show cause why the petition should not be granted. 
Gridley was attorney-general, and of course, was bound by the 
duties of hi^i office, to appear for the officers of his Majesty's cus- 
toms. Otis was employed on the side of the merchants. This was 
in 1761. The cause of the petitioners was ably argued by Gridley: 
he brought all his learning into the cause, which Avas considerable, 
and the whole weight of his character, which was greater with the 
court. Otis made a most eloquent and learned answer, the fame of 
which is not lost by the lapse of years. The court were in doubt, 
and took time for advisement; and the subject ?ias never been settled 
to this day, in that or in any other court. This was the speech 
which ,Tohn Adams has told us, " breathed into the nation the breath 
of lifey I am not engaging in a political discussion at this time, 
but this statement is made to show the causes of the development 
of talent in tliis country. Immediately after this, the papers waxed 
warm upon this subject, and others connected with it, and the press 
teemed with pamphlets, Avhich discovered no small degree of poli- 
tical information. Otis was not content with employing his elo- 
quence alone, but he took up his pen also in defence of our rights ; 
and if liis pen was not equal to his tongue, it was sufficiently pointed 
and powerful to arouse his countrymen, and to excite the vengeance 
of those he called her oppressors. Otis affixed his name boldly to 
whatever he wrote; before this time, most political writings had 
come to the world anonymously. Others followed the example 
which Otis had set them, and wrote over their own namss, when it 
was thought they could do more good by this course, than by taking 
an assumed name. He was not only a patriot, but, what is more 
to my immediate purpose, he was a splendid scholar, and wrote 
several elementary works, and works of taste. His talents, his mis- 
fortunes, his death, are so familiar to us all, that I will not stop to 
recount them. 

Samuel Adams was the contemporary of Otis, born only three 
years before him, but formed altogether on a different model. 
The energy of Adams was equal to that of Otis, but it was united to 
sanctity, as Otis's was to passion. Adams gained by a sage demean- 
our, while Otis lost by openness of manner and freedom of remark. 
They Avere both patriots, and brave to martyrdom ; but while Otis 
rushed upon his enemies in a whirlwind, trusting to his powers and 
to his impetuosity for success, Adams approached with caution, and 
struck with guarded certainty. 

Thomas Hutchinson, a native of the town of Boston, was at this 
period a secret opposer of these patriots ; with declarations of love 
for his native country, he was holding a correspondence with the 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 91 

ministry, and encouraging tliem to persevere in their strong mea- 
sures. He had been an idol of the people, and they were unwilling 
to give him up at once. Feeling himself well fixed in the confi- 
dence of men in power, he threw off" the mask, and boldly met his 
accusers. He was a man of learning and abilities, and possessed a 
very great aptitude for all kinds of public business, and was indus- 
trious in all its details. The history of the country was familiar to 
him, for he had made it a particular study, and was for many years 
employing his leisure hours in writing the history of the province 
of Massachusetts Bay. The storm burst upon his head when he was 
Lieutenant Governor, and his house was demolished by the infuriated 
populace : but he was not easily daunted. The ministry came to his 
support, and raised him to the ofl[ice of chief magistrate. His cor- 
respondence with the government in England, which the patriots 
considered as full of treachery to the colonies, was, by some adroit- 
ness or accident, obtained, and it was impossible for any one to with- 
stand the effect. The populace, the legislature, the statesmen, old and 
young, brought their indignation to bear upon him, and he left our 
shores for England, where his services were forgotten ; and neglect 
and a broken heart awaited him. He was unquestionably the most 
efficient man the royal cause could boast of in this country, at that 
period. For his history, we are much indebted to him. This will 
live, when his political course will only be remembered as a common 
occurrence. 

Tlie late President Adams was another of the distinguished 
writers, in the days preceding the revolution. He was ardent in the 
cause of liberty, but he never " run with bare-headed debasement 
the scrub race of popularity." He was of counsel for Preston and 
his men, in 1770, and, regardless of popular clamour, discharged his 
duty with ability and firmness. He was consistent, unwavering, and 
determined from the first, and employed his pen in defence of the 
colonies from his earliest manhood. He was engaged in contro- 
versy with those who took the side of the crown, until a few months 
previous to the battle of Lexingion. He wrote over the signature 
" NovANGLus," in answer to one who had taken the signature 
" Massachutensis," and whom he supposed to be Jonathan Sewall, 
then attorney-general, but it has lately been stated, on the authority 
of Sampson Salter BloAvers, chief justice of the supreme court of Hali- 
fax, who, with Mr. Adams, was at that time a member of the Suffolk 
bar, that " massachutensis" was A\Titlen by Mr. Leonard, a younger 
member of that bar than either Adams or Sewall, and after- 
wards a judge in one of the English West India islands. These 
were able papers on the great questions then before the people, full 
of striking thoughts and plain and direct arguments : we speak thus 



92 LECTURES ON 

freely of both of these writers ; they managed their causes well. 
Mr. Adams was, at all times, a bold straight-forward writer, and 
sometimes was quite prophetick in his conjectures. 

Among the writers of that day, no man was more conspicuous 
than Doctor Samuel Cooper. He was a most acceptable preacher 
and a fine scholar; probably more refined in his style than most other 
writers in our country; but he did not confine himself to rehgious 
subjects alone. He saw that encroachments on civil liberty would 
reach, in no distant day, the liberty of conscience, and hierarchies 
would grow up when the elective franchise had become a nullity. 
His polished style had reached Paris, and his fame as a fine writer 
was among the first circles of taste and fashion. He was a friend to 
learning, and was a member of the corporation of Harvard College ; 
but he did not content himself, on the score of duty, with college halls 
or religious temples, but threw out the strong emotions of his clear 
mind into the political excitements of the day. He wrote frequently 
in the publick journals, particularly in the Boston Gazette, on all the 
current topicks of the day. These pieces of composition were remark- 
able for perspicuity and elegance ; and the good people were look- 
ing out as each paper came from the press, for something from his 
pen, as a cliarm and a guide. He wrote a pamphlet called " the 
Crisis,^'' which contained a great share of neat and forcible argu- 
ment, but is not equal to many of his other compositions. All his 
works have a political bearing, or, at least, a great portion of them. 
The most popidar works of Doctor Cooper, were the following dis- 
courses: on the Artillery election, 1751 ; and in 1753, an address for 
encouraging industry ; this contained the true principles of political 
economy ; that is, for the rich to study to find work for the poor as 
a preventive of further distress ; and many others, upon occasional 
subjects, were printed by his friends, as he delivered them before the 
several societies which called his talents to their aid. A sermon on 
the reduction of Quebec, was a very popular discourse in this 
country and in England; and one on the commencement of the 
new constitution of Massachusetts, October 25th, 1780, was thought, 
by statesmen, to be a very correct exposition of the great doctrines 
of a free government. This political discourse was translated into 
the French and German languages, and perhaps many others. It 
was no less admired for its bold and generous principles, than for its 
polished style and elegant composition. It was sent through 
Europe, as at once a specimen of the mode of thinking and writing 
in the American states. One of his great maxims was, that know- 
ledge and virtue are the pillars of a free government ; and these 
were only to be had and supported by institutions of learning and 
religion : he was therefore foremost in raising and in supporting se- 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 93 

minaries ofletters, arts, and sciences in the country ; and the Ame- 
rican Academy of Arts and Sciences was honoured by his being 
elected the first president of that body. The political influence of such 
a man is noiseless, but effective. The truths he teaches steal into the 
minds of the reading part of the community, and are transmitted 
with theirs to less enlightened minds, and so on, as far as any think 
or reason at all upon such matters. The letters, the reasoning, the 
current of feeUng in his extensive circle, for several years after Dr. 
Cooper wrote, bore marks of his works having been text-books and 
standards all around him. 

Among the distinguished political writers of that day, as well as a 
great Fanuiel Hall orator, was Josiah Quincy. He had graduated 
in 1763, with a splendid reputation for his early years. A reputa- 
tion, at his period of life, is so full of promise, that in many cases it 
falls short of the ardent hopes of friends, and often disappoints the 
calculations of the community ; but it was not so with Mr. Quincy ; 
his fame increased until his death, in 1775. At the bar he was con- 
spicuous, yielding to none in fluency and energy ; his voice and 
person were much in his favour, and his fearless course of indepen- 
dence, with or against the current of popular feeling, gave him the 
confidence of all sides. Never was there a more ardent or inflexible 
whig than Mr. Quincy. He was not content with raising his voice 
in the primary assemblies of the people, but took up his pen to assist 
them in giving their complaints to the world. Tlie Boston Port- 
bill, an act of parliament to punish the people of Boston for destroy- 
ing the tea, and other acts of a rebellious nature, as they were con- 
sidered by the British ministry, made its appearance in 1774, in this 
country, and the port of Boston was shut up in obedience to it. This 
was a violent measure, and raised a clamour through the country. Mr. 
Quincy seized the opportunity, and Avrote a review of this measure, 
entitled, " Tlioughts on the Boston Port-bill, «Scc. addressed to the 
freeholders and yeomanry of Massachusetts." This was well vn-it- 
ten for the times ; a tame discussion would not have met the exigen- 
cies of that day. He closes the notice with these bold remarks, evi- 
dently emanating from a mind made up to meet the coming crisis, 
however bloody or lasting. " America has her Bruti and Cassii, her 
Hambdens and Sidneys, patriots and heroes, who will form a band 
of brothers ; men who will have memories and feelings, courage 
that shall inflame their ardent bosoms, till their hands cleave to their 
swords, and their swords to their enemies hearts." 

The publick had so long been in training for the evil times which 
came upon them, that every one was thoroughly prepared for all the 
difficulties which he had to encounter. From 1761 to 1775, know- 
ledge was dissemmated, feelings were commmiicated, and mutual 



M LECTURES ON 

pledges, in the best of all forms, that of general sympathy and simi- 
larity of opinions, were given. There were no discordant notes in 
the concert ; all were in tune to any master hand that struck the 
chords. 

The massacre, as the death of those who fell on the 5th of 
March, 1770, by the firing on the inhabitants of Boston, by a pla- 
toon of Captain Preston's company, has ever been called, wa3 
made an admirable cause to rouse the people to arms, or rather 
to prepare them to resist further aggressions. It is a law of nature, 
that the blood of unarmed citizens should cry from the ground for 
vengeance. It is a voice that ages cannot stifle. The patriot lead- 
ers, at that time, restrained the sudden vengeance of the people, but 
still kept alive the feelings of a just resentment, with great address. 
On the 5th of March, 1771, a number of the citizens of Boston 
assembled to mourn the fate of those who had fallen the preceding 
year. It was then thought by some, that an oration should be deli- 
vered on the occasion, and James Lovell, A. M., a much respected 
grammar schoolmaster, renowned for his learning and eloquence, a 
very decided whig, was selected for the task ; and, on the 9th of 
April, 1771, the next month, he Avas ready, and delivered his ora- 
tion on the massacre. This address was a serious political disser- 
tation upon the rights, duties, and feelings of the American people. 

The next year, on the 5th of March, 1772, Dr. Joseph Warren Avas 
selected as the orator. He explained, in his oration, the nature of 
the social compact, spoke of the struggles Britain herself had made 
for liberty, and of the excellence of the British constitution, of which 
he considered that of Massachusetts, and, in Aict, tliat of all tlie colo- 
nies, a copy. He proceeded to try the acts of Britain by her own 
constitution, and found them wanting in justice and law. The ruin- 
ous consequences of standing armies were dwelt upon with great 
severity and openness. The tragedy of that fatal night Avas depicted 
in glowing colours, and managed Avith a master's skill. The appeal 
to his countrymen, in this address, Avas i-eceived as a halloAved burst 
of feeling from a patriot's heart, Avhich reached every pulse in the 
hearts of his hearers. 

In 1773, Dr. Benjamin Church, a physician in Boston, a gentle- 
man distinguished for his learning, talents, and, at that, time, for pa- 
triotism, Avas selected as orator for the anniversary of the 5th of 
March. His oration Avas written in a fine style, and Avas a good 
commentary upon the great doctrines of liberty. In this produc- 
tion, Junius is quoted as an authority, for the first lime I ever remem- 
ber to have seen his name in a solemn address. Church was a poet, 
and closes his oration, after a pathetic burst of eloquence upon the 
" foul deed" of a standing army, done in a time of peace, upon a 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 95 

defenceless populace, in the following lines, which were undoubtedly 
his own : 

" Thou who yon bloody walk shalt traverse, there 
Where troops of Britain's king on Britain's sons 
Discharg'd tlie leaden vengeance : pass not on 
Ere thou hast blest their memory, and paid 
Those hallowed tears which soothe the virtuous dead : 
O si ranger! stay thee, and the scene around 
Contemplate well ; and if, perchance, thy home 
Salute thee with a father's honour'd name, 
Go call thy sons — instruct them what a debt 
They owe their ancestors, and make them swear 
To pay it, by transmitting down entire 
Those sacred rights, to which themselves were born." 

In 1774, John Hancock was appointed orator for the 5th of March. 
This oration has been much read and admired ; it was impassioned 
in the parts relating to the events of that particular day ; but less 
florid and swelling than some others on the occasion. 

In 1775, Joseph Warren was, for the second time, tlie orator. He 
wrote with the fire of genius and the boldness of a hero. The pa- 
pers had teemed with writings which were easily traced by his ene- 
mies to him, for they contained a spirit which could not be mistaken. 
This last oration was the knell of his own obsequies, for in a few 
months he Avas slain in supporting the doctrines he, on this 5th of 
March, promulgated to his countrymen. The martyr's blood sealed 
the patriot's sincerity ; and the soil that drank the stream of life, 
grows holier with every passing age. There was something in this 
second appointment, that deserves commemoration. It was at his 
own solicitation that he was appointed to this duty a second time. 
The fact is illustrative of his character. Some British officers of the 
army, then in Boston, had publickly declared, that it should be at 
the price of the life of any man to speak of the event of the 5th of 
March, 1770, on that anniversary. Warren's soul took fire at such 
a threat, so openly made, and he Avished for the honour of braving 
it. This was readily granted, for, at such a time, a man would pro- 
bably find but few rivals. Many, who would spurn the thought of 
personal fear, might be apprehensive that they would be so far dis- 
concerted as to forget their discourse. It is easier to fight bravely, 
than to think clearly and correctly in danger. Passion sometimes 
nerves the arm to fight, but disturbs the regular current of thought. 
The day came, and the weather Avas remarkably fine. The old 
south meeting-house was crowded at an early hour. The Britisli 
officers occupied the aisles, the flight of steps to the pulpit, and 



96 LECTURES ON 

several of them were within it. It was not precisely known, whe- 
ther this was accident or design. The orator, with the assistance of 
his friends, made his entrance at the pulpit window by a ladder. 
The officers, seeing his coolness and intrepidity, made way for him 
to advance and address the audience. An awful stillness preceded 
his exordium. Each man felt the palpitations of his own heart, and 
saw the pale, but determined, face of his neighbour. The speaker 
began his oration in a firm tone of voice, and proceeded with great 
energy and pathos. Warren and his friends were prepared to cheis- 
tise contumely, prevent disgrace, and avenge an attempt at assassi- 
nation. The scene was sublime ; a patriot, in whom the flush of 
youth, and the grace and dignity of manliood were combined, stood 
armed in the sanctuary of God, to animate and encourage the sons 
of liberty, and to hurl defiance at their oppressors. The orator 
commenced with the early history of the country, described the te- 
nure by which we held our liberties and property ; the affection we 
had constantly sho^vn the parent comitry, and boldly told tliem 
how, and by whom, these blessings of life had been violated. There 
was, in this appeal to Britain, in this description of suffering, agony, 
and horror, a calm and high-souled defiance, which must have chil- 
led the blood of every sensible foe. Such another hour has seldom 
happened in the history of man, and is not surpassed in the records 
of nations. The thunders of Demosthenes rolled at a distance from 
Philip and his host, and TuUy poured the fiercest torrent of his in- 
vective, when Cataline was at a distance, and his dagger no longer to 
be feared ; but Warren's speech was made to proud oppressors, rest- 
ing on their arms, whose errand it was to overawe, and whose busi- 
ness it was to fight. 

If the deed of Brutus deserved to be commemorated by history, 
poetry, painting, and sculpture, should not this instance of patriot- 
ism and bravery be held in lasting remembrance 1 If he " that 
struck the foremost man of all this world," was hailed as the first of 
freemen, what honours are not due to him, who, imdismayed, 
bearded the British lion, to show the world what his countrymen 
dared to do in the cause of liberty ? If tlie statue of Brutus was 
placed amongst those of the gods, Avho were the preservers of Ro- 
man freedom, should not that of Warren fill a lofty niche in the 
temple reared to perpetuate the remembrance of our birth as a 
nation ? 

In 1776, the anniversary of the massacre was kept at Watertown, 
Boston being then in the almost exclusive possession of the British. 
The Rev. Peter Thatcher was the orator. Tlie same subject natu- 
rally led to the consideration and discussion of the same general 
principles. The times and the events of tlie day, provided the ora- 



AMERICAN LITERATURE, 9» 

tor with some additional topicks, and he happily introduced the fate 
of Warren and Montgomery, whose premature deaths were mourn- 
ed by all classes of people in the country, as those who were near 
and dear to liberty and to them. The people of Boston kept up the 
practice of noticing this anniversary until the close of the war, and 
then it was discontinued, and the celebration of the fourth of July 
succeeded. In 1778, Benjamin Hitchborn, Esq. was orator, and 
Jonathan Loring Austin, William Tudor, Esq., Jonathan Masoii, Jun., 
Thomas Dawes, Jun., George Richards Minot, and Dr. Thomas 
Welsh, were called to address the public on this occasion, in succes- 
sion. All these productions breathed the same spirit, and made the 
same pledges to the world to support them ; and they spoke the lan- 
guage of the great mass of the people. I have mentioned these 
orations particularly, as showing the subjects of a nation's thoughts, 
and the literary form in which they were spoken. 

In other colonies, at the same time, the same spirit was awake, and 
information was diffused in every form by which intelligence is com- 
municated. In 1764, John Dickinson, a member of the assembly of 
Pennsylvania, made an impression upon the publick as a patriot of 
distinguished talents. In November of 1767, he began to publish 
his letters against the acts of the British parliament, laying duties on 
paper, glass, and other necessaries of life. They were written in a 
bold and dauntless spirit. He was no leveller, but a loyal subject, 
who considered it his right to discuss these great matters at all 
times. These letters were at that time read by all classes in the 
community, and were quoted as being the true sentiments of the 
great mass of the thinking people in America. He was a member 
of congress in 1774, and was the author of that petition of congress 
to the king, which breathes so loyal and yet so firm a spirit, and 
which extorted praise from the lips of our enemies, and warm con- 
gratulations from our friends. When the proposition was before 
congress for the declaration of our independence, Dickinson was 
opposed to it, and made a long and powerful speech against it, as a 
premature measure, inasmuch as we were not prepared for it ; and 
that the hope of reconciliation was not extinct. His argument was 
a manly one, and did not impair his reputation any farther than 
this, that his constituents Avere not of the same opinion, and did 
not re-elect him imtil they were satisfied that he would act 
generally with those who advocated the declaration of indepen- 
dence. When Mr. Dickinson was fuUy convinced, that a large ma- 
jority of the people were willing to risk all on the question of inde- 
pendence, he came into it cordially. He was president of Pennsyl- 
vania from November, 1783, to 1785. He afterwards removed from 
Pennsylvania to Delaware, his native state, and was sent from there 
I 13 



98 LECTURES ON 

to congress under the old confederation. He was a republican, 
firmly attached to his country, and laboured heartily for her wel- 
fare. He was powerful in argument, bland in manners, rich in 
learning, and happy in his taste as a writer on almost every passing 
matter, as well as of a more profound nature. His works have 
been publislied, in two volumes, and should be more often referred 
to than they are by the present generation. He was equally a fa- 
vourite with his native and with his adopted state. Even in the vio- 
lence of party, his sincerity was never questioned. 

Daniel Galloway, Esq. was a native of the same state, and was 
also a member of congress from Pennsylvania in 1776, and was op- 
posed altogether to the declaration of independence. He was a 
writer of respectable talents, and, after fully ascertaining what the 
people, and their representatives in congress, intended, he differed 
with them entirely, and wrote on the British side of the question, 
and, after a while, left Philadelphia to join our enemies. At tliat 
time, it must have been very unpopular to have said a word on the 
side of our opposers ; and Mr. Galloway must have been a man of 
high moral integrity to have got off with so little abuse as he re- 
ceived. But his fate was an unfortunate one, for he left us from 
principle, but was treated with great rudeness and severity by the 
ministry of England. 

Another writer on the other side of the question, who claims our 
attention and gratitude, was William Henry Drayton, of South 
Carolina. He exerted his literary acquirements and talents in the 
cause of his country. In 1774, he was the author of a pamphlet 
addressed to the American Congress, signed " A FreemanP In 
1776, in his judicial capacity, he made a charge to a grand jury, 
which contained a full and fixir view of the situation of our country 
at that time, and the duties devolving on every citizen who laid any 
claims to love of country. The whole of this charge has been pre- 
served by Dr. Ramsay in his historical works. This able and 
valuable statesman and patriot died while attending his duties as a 
member of congress, in Philadelphia, in 1779, at the early age of 
thirty-seven. He was truly a great man, and his death was deeply 
deplored in every part of the country. 

New-York and New-Jersey were happy in having a share in the 
fame of William Livingston, governor of the latter state, but a na- 
tive of the former, and a writer and politician of distinction before 
he took up his residence in New-Jersey. Livingston was an elegant 
scholar, and wrote with great pungency and effect in those times, 
in which every form of argument was required to rouse the spirit 
of the people, to discharge their awful responsibilities. The effect 
of his exertions were seen in the good conduct of the Jersey mili- 



AMERICAN J.ITERATURE. 99 

tia, in the most perilous moments of the revohitionary war, when 
their territory was overrun by the enemy, and despondency was 
extending her paralyzing influences over the whole country, from 
Georgia to Maine. 

Maryland produced, among her numerous patriots and writers, 
one who was very celebrated at the time, in Daniel Dulany, Esq., a 
Avriter on political subjects ; and he has had the credit of having 
done much good. He was a lawyer of Annapolis, and distinguished 
at the Maryland bar. 

Virginia had her share of Avriters previous to the revolution, al- 
though she did not for some time feel much of the arbitrary power 
of Great Britain. Thomas Jefferson, when quite a young man, wrote 
upon the great questions then agitated, but his whole history is so 
well known that it would be useless to restate it. Richard Bland, 
Arthur Lee, and Robert Carter Nicholas, were also known as writers 
on the popular side of the question in Virginia. Bland was a dis- 
tinguished member of the house of burgesses, in 1776, and at that 
time published an inquiry into the rights of the British colonies in 
America, in answer to a pamphlet published in London in the pre- 
ceding year, entitled " regidations lately made concerning the colo- 
lonies, and the taxes imposed on them considered." Arthur Lee 
wrote, in 1769, " the monitor's letters," which were extensively read, 
not only in Virginia, but in other parts of the country. There were 
others of note and worth who wielded their pens in the great cause 
of American freedom, whom we have not had time to mention, par- 
ticularly many of the clergymen, who were then in active life, such 
as Witherspoon, Webster, and a host of good patriots, who mingled 
their ardent wishes for their country with their morning and even- 
ing prayers to heaven for salvation. While the statesman called 
upon his countrymen from the halls of legislation, to come forward 
and act valiantly, the zealous clergyman entered the citizen's dwell- 
ing, preached a homily on the duties of a patriot before the fire-side 
and at the family altar, and roused father and son to gird on their 
swords and march for the defence of their country ; and not un- 
frequently, when his flock were ready for the field, joined them 
himself with the sword of Gideon and the Lord, to encourage their 
hearts and strengthen their hands. 

During all these preparations for the coming conflict, the subject 
of education was more attended to than ever it had been. In addi- 
tion to the common course of instruction, the Oriental languages, 
which are now opening their inexhaustible treasures of learning to 
the. world, were assiduously cultivated. After the resignation of 
Morris, as Hebrew instucter in Harvard University, a professorship 
of Oriental Literature was established by the munificence of Thomas 



100 LECTURES ON 

Hancock, uncle to John Hancock, the patriot, and Stephen Sewall, 
was selected for the Oriental chair. He was indeed well qualified 
for the office, being probably the best linguist of his age. He was 
bred a mechanick, a house-joiner, until he was one and twenty years 
of age, and was distinguished for his skill in his trade. He had been 
fond of books, and had made many curious philological researches 
that attracted the attention of a learned divine in his vicinity, who 
gave him every aid in his power. The pupil made the most rapid 
advances in the languages, and studied them so deeply and carefully, 
that he became unquestionably the first critick of his time in this 
country. He wrote Greek odes, Avhich were noticed in England. 
He went perhaps as learnedly into the philosophical constitution of 
that'beautiful language as Porson and Parr have since done. He 
pursued his philological studies farther, and made himself master of 
the Syriack, Arabick, Chaldee, Samaritan, Ethiopick, Persiack, and 
Coptick. He left some accurate notes on all these languages in his 
lectures, and made many remarks on them in a correspondence 
held with the learned Orientalists in Europe, which received from 
these professors the highest commendations. He made a lexicon of 
some of these languages, and translated a part of Young's Night 
Thoughts into Latin hexameter. It was in no small degree owing 
to this fine classical scliolar that Hebrew retained its rank among 
the languages, when the spirit of modern philosophy strove to banish 
it from the dignity of those languages worthy the attention of a 
learned man. The day of proscription has passed ; the inquiring 
mind has found some of the richest gems of thought, some of the 
loveliest flowers of poetry, and many touches of a profound philo- 
sophy, in the immense fields of eastern literature, through which 
the scholars of the present day are travelling with inexpressible 
pleasure. 

For many years previous to the revolution, the science of govern- 
ment and the rights of man were subjects of discussion at Harvard 
University, in every form of their literary exercises, from dialogues 
to orations, not only on quarter-days and commencements, but at 
all other times. The students examined all the principles of politi- 
cal and civil liberty of the ancient republicks, and were well read in 
the English constitution, and also in that of the United Provinces of 
the Netherlands ; and the forms of liberty in the Italian cities, such 
as had boasted of their freedom in modern days, were commented 
upon with the spirit of reformers ; the right to resist oppression was 
often taken as a theme for declamation, and the loudest applause was 
bestowed on the boldest of the advocates for the doctrine. I name 
not this fact as wishing to consider them as models for the student 
at the present day : the present times demand other directions of 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 101 

the hiunan mind, but simply to show how intimately our literature 
and national existence have been connected. 

It was a mutual and most felicitous thought, to call the learned 
men of all times and nations a Republick of Letters ; for with them, 
in every age, have been found the true doctrines of political liberty 
and the seeds of civil institutions. The learned, as a body, have fa- 
voured freedom of opinion, and the sacred rights of man, even in the 
courts of tyrants, and in the faces of their creatures. The learned 
priests of Egypt wrested from their kings rights for themselves, and 
protection for the people. In the walks of the academy and the 
halls of science, the mind threw off its shackles ; and in the con- 
templation of the laws of nature, and of the moral world, and in the 
pursuit of science and the arts, it lost its reverence for hereditary 
claims to eminence, and looked directly with a philosophical eye 
to the fitness of things, thoughtless of arbitrary distinctions among 
men. In a community where the operations of the mind may be 
watched in its advancements in knowledge, those cast by nature in 
a superiour mould will attract the attention and receive that homage 
which in some form or other genius will for ever secure. The in- 
stitutions of learning in our country had, it is true, some of the 
forms and shows of the relicks of aristocracy, in the arrangements of 
their catalogues, or some trifling ceremonies ; but there never ex- 
isted purer fountains of political justice, and true equality, than 
were to be found in them. The right once established to judge of 
religious doctrines, of reasoning upon human, angelick, and divine 
natures, embraces in it the right of judging upon the political, civU, 
and moral conduct of men, in, or out of power. The student, sur- 
rounded by the lights of mind which had illumined the world in 
every age, and holding, every day, converse, through their works, 
with the mighty dead, felt no great respect or reverence for empty- 
headed vanity, or ignorant pride, however bloated by consequence, or 
elated by the possession of power; for he knew that, at best, for him 
who possessed it, power could not be permanent, or with us heredi- 
tary ; he therefore saw, as he looked forward into his country's his- 
tory, one generation of little oppressors pass off after another, as in- 
sects of a day, or creatures of a moment. If all the scholar felt could 
not have been fully communicated to his fellow actors as he entered into 
life, yet sufficient of his spirit might have been diffused to have given 
a similarity to the feelings and reasonings of others, and to have pre- 
pared the community to reason and think for themselves on all subjects 
involving their rights and privileges. Every educated man who had 
left these walks of learning, became a Hierophant of liberty among 
the people, and taught them, at once, the means and the blessings of 
freedom. The love of freedom with them was no phosphorick light 
12 



im LECTURES ON 

or flickering blaze from putrescent masses, or occasional ignition, 
but a steady flame, which burnt like the sacred fire on the altars of 
Greece, in the temple of liberty, or that holier flame of the lamp of 
God in the house of the Lord, which burnt day and night to keep 
the hallowed fane from darkness and pollution. The liberty they 
asked was only British liberty, such as the people of England en- 
joyed, and still enjoy : that they should be taxed by their own re- 
presentatives, and by none others. 



LECTURE VII. 



" The true patriot is found in all classes of men ; his name is sacred, his deeds 
are glorious ; he is not seduced by honours or rewards ; he is above all bribes; 
he is destitute of all selfishness ; he is ready to pour out his blood as water for 
his country's good ; he labours for great ends by honest means ; he fears luxu- 
ry as a national evil ; he dreads parsimony as a national curse ; he thinks no 
man lives for himself alone ; he subdues his pride, and humbles his sense of 
importance, by thinking how short is human life ; he represses his vanity by 
knowing how many are his superiours ; he feels rightly ; thinks correctly ; 
judges candidly ; acts wisely ; hopes humbly ; and dies in the full assurance of 
immortality — favoured by men, or if not that, beloved by God." 

The Patriot's Manual. 

During the long agony of our revolutionary conflict, our small se- 
minaries of learning were generally closed, and the course of in- 
struction in colleges and high schools was interrupted ; yet the minds 
of the people were never more active. Every piiblick square and 
every private dwelling, were places of discussion, and of inquiry into 
the general principles of liberty of thinking, and acting. The 
fervour of passion had passed away ; and that cool determination 
succeeded, which denotes a firmness of purpose, and which is not to 
be shaken, and that high resolve which nothing can break down. 
The publick documents of that day, fully show this calm and quiet 
temper, for in them there is nothing spiteful, irritable, or feverish. 
A careless observer might think that the hearts of the people were 
not in this cause, all things were conducted with such serenity. It 
is a fact worthy of notice, that on the 17th of June, 1775, the pro- 
vincial congress of Massachusetts was in session at Watertown, not 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 103 

more than six miles, if so much, from Charlestown heights ; yet 
their records show that they were busy throughout that eventful 
day, in their dehberations. Notwithstanding the incessant roar of 
musketry and cannon, and the awful conflagration of Charlestown, 
the dwellings of their friends and neighbours, yet not a man left his 
seat ; and the journal of their proceedings on that day is very full, 
and marked with precision and fine chirography. Not the slightest 
allusion is to be found on these records, to the alarm of the neigh- 
bourhood, or the possibility of defeat in the contest. It was not 
until three days after the fight, that even the probability of the death 
of their President, General Warren, was suggested, and that only on 
a motion to proceed to the choice of another, to fill his place. These 
conscript fathers would not give the people any intimation that 
they would shrink from personal danger, while in the discharge of 
their duties as statesmen. Their first account of this event is pre- 
pared with great deliberation ; not a word of boasting is contained 
in it, nor is there even a just account of American bravery to be 
found in it. In fact, they were not apprised of the honour of that 
fight, at that time. The language of the continental congress also, 
at that time, is full of the same modesty, which the enemy took for 
timidity and fear. The addresses which came from this body were 
not tinctured with the slightest boasting, even when arguing with 
friends or foes. They made no flattering appeal to the people they 
wished to arouse to action, and prepare for disasters and blood-shed, 
in every form of attack, from their enemies. 

The petitions and addresses to the king of Great Britain were 
modest, patient, and manly ; those to the people of England, af- 
fectionate and full of sorrow, that such times should have come, and 
such evils, as they suffered, should exist. The declaration of inde- 
pendence, in which, it might be supposed, was concentrated all their 
wrongs and sufferings, is still expressed in the calm language of en- 
during philosophy and patriotism, without one particle of rage or 
vengeance, but still strong, clear, bold, and impressive. 

The pamphlets and letters of that period are, Avith a few excep- 
tions, models of plain unsophisticated reasoning, and addressed to 
the understandings of the people, rather than to their passions. 
Nothing of the tumid, vapouring, trash of the electioneering style 
of later days was known to those who brought on our independence, 
at the price of blood and treasure, which price was not fixed to any 
limits, nor bounded by any measure. The addresses of the go- 
vernors, presidents, and commanders-in-chief of the militia of the 
several states, partook of the same spirit ; and as strange as it may 
seem, a better day of taste in literary composition had never been 



104 LECTURES ON 

known amongst us, than that when the danger was the greatest, and 
the minds of men might be thought to be the most perturbed. 

The authors of that day, not only availed themselves of the pro- 
ductions of the philosophers and sages of antiquity, whose works 
abound in all the doctrines of liberty, expressed in every beauty of 
language and charm of literature, but also of those pithy writers of a 
later date, that political circumstances had brought out, in Italy, 
France, and England ; but particularly those of the United Nether- 
lands ; these last were of great service, their history resembling our 
own more distinctly than that of any other nation. Their articles of 
confederation were, confessedly, the basis of ours, at the commence- 
ment of the revolution. 

Charleston, in South Carolina, has the honour of making the first 
celebration of the 4th of July. This was in 1778, two years only after 
the declaration of independence. On that day, Doctor Ramsay, since 
so well known to every child in the United States, as a politician 
and historian, appeared as the orator. Whoever will turn over the 
pages of that excellent address, will rejoice to find how fairly and 
faithfully the blessings of independence are enumerated in it ; not 
in the swollen language of vanity, striving for importance, but in 
the strong, bold, flowing periods, of one who had reasoned and felt 
upon all the great matters he was discussing. In all probability, 
this custom has been kept alive there ever since ; if not exactly an- 
nually, yet with sufficient regularity to answer the purpose of a 
proper political stimulant. In 1785, on the 4th of July, Doctor 
Josiah B. Ladd, a gentleman of high standing in the literary world, 
was solicited in that city, to make an address before the executive 
authority of South Carolina. This tasteful effort has been preserved 
for our instruction and guide. 

In every stage of the contest, the literary men of our country did 
every thing in their power, to raise the flame of patriotism in the 
breasts of their countrymen. The aphorisms of the poets and sages 
of all times and countries were brought forth to enlighten and ani- 
mate our people ; and the striking instances of patriotism in history 
were made also to bear upon every crisis in our political affairs, 
with great judgement. An instance of this I will give you. On the 
5th of July, the fourth having been Sunday, in the year 1779, 
Judge Breckenridge, of Philadelphia, delivered an " Eulogium on 

THE BRAVE MEN WHO HAD FALLEN IN THE CONTEST WITH 

Great Britain." It was a happy thought; the subject was na- 
tural and classical, and was treated with great taste and effect. 
There was a law of the Athenians, that after a battle in which her 
brave men had fallen, an orator should be elected by the court of 
Areopagus, to pronounce an eulogy on the deceased before the ci- 



AMERICAN LITERATURE, 105 

tizens of the Republic. In the 87th Olympiad, 431 years before 
the christian era, Pericles was appointed by the court to pronounce 
an eulogium upon those citizen-soldiers who fell in the first Pelo- 
ponnesian war. The oration of this eminent scholar and statesman 
has been preserved in the pages of Thucydides, and is one of the 
noblest specimens of eloquence which has come down to us from 
antiquity. He began with commending to the notice of his audi- 
ence their ancestors— the Athenians of other times ; their valour, 
their love of liberty, their attention to arts and arms, were touched 
with the skill of a master hand. The charms of civil society, of re- 
fined manners, and of the sweets of intellectual superiority, were ad- 
mirably portrayed. The privileges of the people of Greece, above 
all other men, were not forgotten, nor the value of existence kept out 
of view ; but at the same time, the honour of dying in the field of 
glory was fully set forth. The duty of the publick to the offspring 
of those who were slain fighting the battles of the country, was dis- 
tinctly stated, and the ordinance on that subject recited ; " that tJiose 
children made fatherless by such a cause, shoidd be educated at 
the public expense." 

■ The American orator had a still more noble theme. The Athe- 
• nians had engaged in this war, not from necessity, but from pride 
and a love of military glory. They might have avoided it, and yet 
have retamed their splendour and liberties, and all those charms 
which the orator dwelt upon, as sweetening life. The mighty Athe- 
nian said, that one of the great motives which influenced'' the brave 
citizens, and led them to rush on death, was reven^■e, revenue 
The citizen-soldiers of our republic had nothing of rei;^«^e in their 
dispositions, which brought them to the ensanguined iield, and laid 
them low in the dust. To use the American orator's words, " it was 
the pure love of virtue and freedom, burning bright within their 
mmds, that alone could engage them to embark in an undertaking 
of so bold and perilous a nature. They were not soldiers by pro- 
fession ; they were men in the easy walks of life, mechanicks of the 
city, merchants of the counting-house, youths engaged in literary 
studies, and husbandmen, peaceful cuUivators of the soil, happy in 
the sociability and conversation of the town, the simplicity of the 
country village, or the philosophick ease of academick leisure, and 
the sweets of social life ; they wished not a change of these scenes 
of pleasure for the dangers and calamities of war." 

The American orator is more impassioned than his great proto- 
type of Athens ; his language glows with more warmth^ there was 
less ambition in his strain of eloquence, and more of humanity than 
the orator of Athens aUowed in his philosophy. Both orators called 
up the fathers and the sons of those who fell, to comfort them bv 
14 ^ 



lOe LECTURES ON 

different forms of reasoning. The American orator had the- ad- 
vantage in the closing part of his oration, for tlie Athenian, in a few 
cold and ungallant sentences addressed to the widows, advised them 
" to keep as much out ofpublick view, ami as far from puhlick re- 
mark, as possible.^'' The American mothers and widows required 
no such advice. In tlie time of Pericles, the christian religion 
which gives to women all their true influence, was imknown. 
Our orator took leave of the mighty dead, with the heart of a pa- 
triot, and with the views of a prophet. " Who in after times (says 
he) shall speak of those who "have risen to renown 1 I will charge it 
to the golden-winged and silver-tongued bards : that they recollect 
and set in order every circumstance, the causes of the war, early 
and just exertions, the toils, hazardous achievements, noble resolu- 
tions, unshaken perseverance, unabated ardour, hopes in the worst 
of times, triumphs of victory, humanity to an enemy; all these will 
I charge it, that they recollect and set in order, and give them bright 
and unsullied to the coming ages. The bards I know will hear me ; 
and you, my gallant countrymen, shall go down to posterity with 
exceeding honour. Your fame shall ascend on the stream of time ; 
it shall play with the breezes of the morning. Men at rest in the 
cool age of life, from the fury of a thousand wars, finished by their 
fathers, shall observe the spreading ensign. They shall hail it, as it 
waves with variegated glories, and feeling all the warm rapture of 
the heart, shall give their plaudits from the shores." 

The Athenians did redeem their pledge ; the orphans were edu- 
cated at the publick expense ; but where are the children of those 
who fell in our revolutionary war ? We leave those to answer who 
can, satisfactorily to themselves. 

The literature of the revolution is scattered throughout the his- 
tory of all the transactions of that eventful period ; but in no in- 
stance does it shine more conspicuously than in the productions of 
Washington; he was not a scholar by education or profession ; his 
information was miscellaneous, and by no means extensive, when his 
early publick services began. He knew sometliing of history and 
mathematicks, and something of the military tacticks of the day. 
He, from his youth, saw things, at all times, tlirough a clear me- 
dium, and expressed his thoughts with clearness, force, and honesty. 
His history of his journey to the Ohio, undertaken by the order of 
Dimviddie, proves that his judgment was the master trait of his 
mind. The object of his mission is not a moment forgotten ; he 
looked with a single eye to that object, and he never, for a moment, 
turned himself, to think of his dangers or his sufferings. At every 
step such a mind improves. His first address to his army in July, 
1775, is full of excellent military rules, but is wanting in that felici- 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 107 

tous elegance which he afterwards acquired. He never suffered a 
sentiment to come from his pen neghgently written ; all was worked 
into ease and dignity. No commander that ever lived had so much 
need of this talent. Others have had to issue orders and to give an 
account of proceedings ; Washington had not only to do these, but 
other things besides. He had, at times, to perform every duty inci- 
dent to war, and more, from a pioneer to a field marshal ; and from 
a sutler to a chancellor of the exchequer, at least with his pen ; not 
only this, he had to use every argument to collect troops, and to 
keep them together, even for the shortest time ; apathy was to be 
aroused ; vaulting ambition to be struck down ; individual bicker- 
ings to be silenced ; sectional irritations to be soothed ; the quarrel- 
some and high mettled to be controlled, that the service should not 
sutfer ; the faint and despairing to be encouraged ; the living to be 
supported, and heaven, sometimes, only knew how ; and the dead 
were to be duly honoured, according to military usages, when the 
army had hardly powder enough to fire a volley at the enemy. In 
all this, the address of Washington was conspicuous, but the pro- 
ductions of his pen were more so. He wrote to all, he reasoned 
with all, and he conquered all. Congress was not at all times in a pro- 
per temper to render him the most efficient aid ; he was obliged to 
come upon them in all forms of entreaty ; alarming them, at times, 
by his intimations of leaving thearmy,usingevery suggestion which 
could reach their pride, their patriotism, their honour, courage, or 
any other faculty, property, or sympathy, about them. There is not 
a form of reasoning that he was not obliged to assume ; still, every 
form was pure English, good common sense, in his mother tongue. 
Cesar wrote his commentaries in the camp, and they are a fine mo- 
del of chaste and elegant writing ; but it must be remembered, that 
Cesar was a high bred Roman scholar. He was as proud of his 
eloquence and fine writing, as he was of his fame as a great leader 
of armies. Wolfe made his addresses and wrote his despatches in 
the toils and distresses incident to a camp ; but these productions are 
but few, compared with those of Washington. Burgoyne's letters, 
■written in the field, are said to surpass those written in the closet ; 
Nelson's account of the battle of the Nile is sublime; and 
Buonaparte's address to his soldiers under the pyramids, is full of 
epick grandeur. But these are momentary bursts of chivalrous feel- 
ings; while Washington's addresses, despatches, and letters, to 
every one, in every part of the country, was a continued exertion of 
reason, to save his country. When the memory of individual ex- 
ertion shall be lost, and history shall only speak, in general terms, 
of the revolutionary conflict, these letters and addresses of Wash- 
ington will preserve the particular scenes of that day, and bring 



108 LECTURES ON 

them at once to the understanding of men. In looking carefully 
over his productions already published, I cannot find in them one 
word that is not pure, legitimate English ; good Saxon English, 
through which runs the best currents of true liberty in thinking 
and acting of any language that can be found, at any time or 
place. 

The close of the war of independence, when the people fondly 
thought that they were about to be rewarded for all their sacrifices, 
was the most painful period of our history. At that time, from 
1783 to 1789, almost every one found his affairs in a deranged state. 
The state debts which had been made in hopes of prosperous times, 
then operated severely on all classes in the community. To pay 
their debts with promptness was impossible, and every relief-act only 
made the matter worse. It was then that the people found that the 
great work of independence, as contemplated at the beginning of 
the conflict, was only half done ; a form of government was to be 
fixed upon to give energy to national power, and success to indi- 
vidual and national enterprise. This portentous crisis formed ano- 
ther epoch for the display of the literary and political attainments 
of the active and patriotick minds in our country. New men ap- 
peared on the important discussion of the adoption of the federal 
constitution in the several state conventions ; and it was found that 
the quantity of talent and information in the country had greatly 
increased during the war ; and that its standard quality was equally 
good and precious as that which had been assayed at the commence- 
ment of the difficulties. A thousand intellectual lamps were lighted 
up along our shores, to show the people in what darkness they were 
groping, and to what a precipice they were hastening. A baleful 
meteor now and then led the people for a moment astray, but at 
length the right path was found, and the nation commenced its 
march onward to prosperity and honour. 

Perhaps it were well to pause a moment and name a few of those 
who displayed their literature and eloquence at this important period. 
They left unexplored no portion of history. They passed by no 
lesson of experience ; all were faithfully examined and thoroughly 
sifted, and the people had the benefits of the results. That nation 
cannot be long in danger that can, on any great event, command her 
physical and mental powers for her safety and guide. 

It was felt by all thinking men, in every part of the country, that 
the old confederation was no longer a sufficient bond of union. The 
great pressure of common danger, which had kept all secure, had 
in a great measure ceased, and the people were hurrying fast on to 
anarchy, for want of a government that could enforce its requisitions. 

From these conventions much of the nature of our people, their 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 109 

habits of thinking, and reasoning, and feeling, maybe gathered. In 
loolcing over the debates in the several conventions in the different 
states, we find a great deal of talent displayed, from New-Hamp- 
shire to Georgia ; and we may also see that the education of each 
state had been nearly on the same model ; for in reading the speeches 
of all, a foreigner would at once pronounce that the orators were 
trained in the same school. The style of eloquence may vary a 
little, but the language used in the debates is all in the good old 
English books. They had the same jealousies, the same hopes and 
fears, and the same determinations. These jealousies had taken 
rank hold of common minds in every portion of the country ; but it 
is not too much to say, that those in favour of adopting the constitu- 
tion were generally of the higher classes of intellect, and those who 
had most at stake, although it must be conceded that there were 
many exceptions to this remark. The speakers in favour of adopt- 
ing the constitution far outnumbered those opposed to it, in propor- 
tion to the majority obtained for the final vote. 

In the convention of Massachusetts, there were, out of three hun- 
dred and fifty-five members, sixty-seven speakers, and not more than 
eight or ten ventured to oppose the constitution in debate ; and yet 
there were, after every exertion, but a majority of nineteen in favour 
of the adoption of it. In the convention of New-York, which con- 
sisted of about sixty members, there was only a majority of two in 
favour of the adoption ;. and among the thirteen speakers there were 
only two or three in the negative. The talents were certainly on 
the side of the adoption ; the impressions of the people were at first 
decidedly against it, from the fear that they were giving up too much 
of their hard earned liberty, and not from any wish to live in a state 
of anarchy. A bookseller of the city of Washington has, with a 
very enterprising spirit, commenced the publication of the debates 
hi the several conventions ; and has issued one volume, containing 
those in the conventions of Massachusetts and New- York. This is 
a laudable enterprise, and we wish him the success which he de- 
serves. It must, however, be taken into consideration, that forty 
years have elapsed since these debates were reported ; and at that 
time the art of reporting speeches was but little known ; and it can- 
not be supposed that in cases where the speakers did not assist the 
reporters, that we have any thing more than the skeletons of the 
speeches delivered. The convention of Massachusetts were toge- 
ther from the 9th of January, 1788, to February 7th, twenty-nine 
days, at which time there were nearly two hundred speeches made; 
and among the orators some of the first men New-England ever 
produced. Parsons, Ames, Cabot, Gore, King, Dana, Jarvis, Strong, 
Brooks, Dawes, and others, who exhausted every subject they dia- 
K 



no LECTURES ON 

cussed. The whole of these speeches is comprised in one hundred 
and fifty octavo pages ; and from a comparison of their different 
styles of speaking on other subjects, I find that the reporter's, not 
the spealvcr's style, is to be seen ; still, however, much credit is due 
to him for getting these debates up so well as he did at that time. 
The New- York orators were fortunate, for they undertook to assist 
the reporter, and of course posterity wiU have a fair view of their 
arguments. It must be granted that the New- York convention was 
a highly intellectual body. 

Virginia, always true to her native talents, had an experienced 
reporter in the convention to take down the debates ; and fortunately 
for us, he extended them to three volumes, amounting to six hun- 
dred and twelve closely printed pages; and although that body was 
in session but twenty-six days, and only thirteen or fourteen mem- 
bers attempted to speak, yet we have more matter from these 
speeches than from the Massachusetts and New- York reports to- 
gether. Those in the Virginia convention, in favour of adopting 
the proposed constitution, who distinguished themselves by their 
speeches, were Messrs. Nicholas, Randolph, Madison, Pendleton, 
Marshall, and Tyler. Those opposed to its adoption, were Patrick 
Henry, Mason, Munroe, Grayson, and Dawson. Mr. Madison took 
a very active part, and spoke more than any other member in the 
convention ; although all those mentioned were deeply engaged. 
It will not be denied, at this day, that throughout the thirteen United 
States, in these debates on establishing a form of government, 
a majority of the talents was on the side of the constitution ; 
yet there were able men opposed to it. When the main question 
was taken, the plurality in Virginia was only ten — eighty-nine vo- 
ting in the affirmative, and seventy-nine in the negative. The ques- 
tion was ably argued on both sides, and the objections very honestly 
given. Patrick Henry, and those who acted with him, were fearful 
of the loss of state influence. They were alarmed at the expression 
" we, the people." They saw in this phrase a consolidation of inte- 
rests which was not consistent with state pride; while, in many states, 
the people were afraid that individual riglits would be lost. These 
different jealousies were shown at every movement of the states; 
but at last were happily overcome by the perseverance of the friends 
of the constitution. A victory was obtained more difficult to achieve 
than any ; yea, than all those of arms which had been gained in the 
revolutionary struggle. These jealousies were natural, but the con- 
quest over them was glorious. 

I should proceed to give the best, information I have upon the 
conventions of the other states, if the publick were not soon to be 
in possession of all that remains of their history from the press of 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. Ill 

Mr. J. Elliott, of Washington, whose labours and research in this 
undertaking deserve the patronage of the publick. 

It is to be regretted; that so many of the speeches of the members 
of the different conventions, are irrecoverably lost for the want of 
a proper reporter at the time, and from inattention since. It is a 
mortifying truth that more of our history, or more of the minute 
facts of which our history has been composed, have been preserved 
by other nations than by ourselves. The nations of Europe con- 
sidered our case a new one in the annals of the world ; and some 
of their curious speculators on the progress of events, took infinite 
pains to procure all the information to be had in respect to us and 
our proceedings. The Italian historian, Botta, not only procured 
all the information he could, but set down and wrote the history of 
our revolution with great fairness, and with tolerable accuracy. 
Professor Ebeling, of Germany, had the intention, it is said, of wri- 
ting out our Avhole history, and collected a great mass of materials 
for that purpose. The history he did not write ; but we have, 
through the medium of an individual, the benefit of his collections ; 
they having been purchased and brought to this country. 

There is one work which deserves our notice, and which ought 
to be republished, as there are but few copies of it in this country. 
"The Remembrancer, or an Impartial Repository of Publick Events." 
This work was begmi by J. Almon, and published in monthly num- 
bers, in London. It extends over the whole time of the revolution, 
from 1775 to 1783, and amounts to fourteen volumes, as collected 
and bound. The work was friendly to the cause of America, and 
was supported by the friends of this country at that time, and is 
remarkable for its candour, truth, and fidelity. One already pos- 
sessed of the general outlines of the great contest between the colo- 
nies and the mother country, will find in this work more valuable 
documents, of a particular and circumstantial nature, to aid him in 
getting a minute history of his country at that period, than he can 
in any other work extant. Every one who has read history with 
attention, and with a desire to gain knowledge, will frequently find 
that there are a thousand little chinks left by the general writer that 
he could wish to see filled up ; but knows not where to seek for the 
facts he is anxious to find. As to the history of our revolution, 
these volumes will greatly assist him. It has been a fruitful source 
for the historians themselves. The Remembrancer is something 
like Niles' Register, and is now what that will be to the future his- 
torians of our country. We are deeply indebted to the friends of 
our cause, at that period, in every part of the world, for their help- 
ing hand and good wishes ; without which we might have fainted 



113 LECTURES ON 

in reaching the goal and obtaining the prize ; gratitude should re- 
member what benevolence lias forgotten. 

After these great exertions for the adoption of the federal consti- 
tution had been made in tlie state conventions, and indeed while 
they were making, and the question was under discussion, a great 
deal was written by men of enlightened minds, and given to the 
public, to clear up the difficulties which had been suggested by those 
opposed to the form of government provided for in the constitution. 
Mr. Jay, Mr. Madison, and Mr. Hamilton, brought all the powers of 
their mighty minds, to satisfy the people that they were doing wisely 
to support the constitution, not only in convention, but by a series 
of letters in the pubhck prints. These periodicals, now acknow- 
ledged as their productions, unite the soundest maxims of good go- 
vernment, with the clearest and best illustrations of the best forms 
in which it could appear. These productions may be said to have 
fixed the publick mind. The relations and bearings of the provi- 
sions of the constitution, were so distinctly pointed out in them, that 
all could understand ; and such was the correctness and beauty of 
the style of these numbers, that by them the taste of the country 
was refined, as well as the views of the citizens enlarged, and their 
understandings enlightened. I shall not stop, at this moment, to 
point out the part each one took in this gi-eat labour ; but simply 
make this passing remark, that the Federalist stands foremost among 
American literary productions, whether we consider the subject, the 
matter, or style of the work, or its usefidness in explaining the 
views of those learned statesmen who achieved the second part of 
our independence. The effect of this work was such, that in a few 
years after it gained general circulation, there was scarcely a man 
to be found who questioned the propriety of the adoption of the 
constitution. 

The valour which fought out the battles of the revolutionary war, 
and finally drove the enemy from our shore, and the wisdom which 
suggested our excellent form of government, and the address and 
perseverance which led to its adoption, Avere more than equalled 
by the wisdom and prudence with which the machinery was set in 
motion. The first congress, under the constitution, was composed 
of great men ; most of them had been reared in the school of expe- 
rience, and had been employed previously in considering that in- 
strument ; in order to assist in forwarding its adoption, they came 
to their congressional duties with a spirit of forbearance, ready to 
sacrifice all local prejudices on the altar of their country's good. 
What Ihe knowledge and experience of one did not reach, the in- 
genuity of the otiier suggested, and all went on harmoniously and 
successfully. Tlicre was a delicacy shown to each other in that 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 113 

body, generally speaking, which has never been felt or exhibited since; 
and perhaps it has never since been so necessary as at that time. 
The eyes of the community were turned towards congress as to- 
wards the trying of an experiment, of which there were nearly as 
many fears as hopes. To use a phrase from the laws of the solar 
system, its polarity was inclined towards democracy, as being more 
congenial to the feelings of the people, and more consistent with 
the elements of our society, than a stronger government would have 
been. The people reasoned from expanded views of human nature, 
and a thorough acquaintance with history. They saw that des- 
potick power destroys the oak of liberty, by cutting up root and 
branch, and by striking the soil on which it grows with dead sterility; 
while anarchy, if it comes at all, comes in a whirlwind with an hun- 
dred hands, and scatters the leaves and breaks the branches; but the 
root is not always left sapless ; and the acorn, trodden under foot, 
may burst its germ and spring into life, and flourish in a new ge- 
neration. Violent political discussions often pass away, and leave 
the lessons of experience to be felt and regarded ; but nations rarely 
recover from the paralysis of despotism. Our ancestors saw the 
mother country, even in all the disasters and horrors of civil wars, 
advance in power and influence, while Spain, in the quiet of arbi- 
trary power, was fast sinking into a secondary importance. In 
England the most useful institutions, and many of her learned men, 
grew up immediately after a civil war, or in it ; while with all the 
influx of gold from the new world, learning and the arts declined at 
the same time, in the calm of Spanish despotism. 

The literature of nations may be seen, in some measure, in the 
style in which their laws are written, and by their state papers. 
We judge of the state of the Romans by the style of the Justinian 
code, as well as by the poets of the Augustan age. In fact, the style 
of the laws is a better proof of the general advancement of knowledge, 
than that of the works of a few poets. The laws reflect the ge- 
neral intelligence, while poetry is perhaps only the reflected imagery 
of a few individual minds. The laws of the United States show a 
great extent of knowledge in the civil and commercial relations of 
society and nations. No country ever produced so many laws in so 
short a period of time. These laws and regulations are, in general, 
clear and explicit ; sometimes they are marked with the peculiar 
phraseology of a particular state, as borrowed from the statute book 
of that state ; but this is not perceptible to any one but those deeply 
read in these state laws. Every day's business is giving a more 
entire national stamp to the statute book of the United States; and 
the numerous and lucid decisions of the supreme court have pro- 
duced uniform constructions in the laws which were in some degree 
K2 15 



114 LECTURES ON 

differently construed in different sections of this extended country 
at the commencement of our national career. 

The style of our state papers has been of a high order, in point of 
clearness and correctness, the great requisites in communications of 
a publick nature. The first secretaries were men of industry and 
learning, and they spared no pains to leave on record proofs of their 
abilities as makers of precedents. A responsible situation, indeed ; 
several of these men were prime scholars, and felt that they were 
making models for future ages. It is a subject of congratulation to 
us, that so many patient, industrious, and learned men were, at that 
period, found for the discharge of such important duties. The anxiety 
of the first president to have every thing well matured, and clearly 
expressed, was favourable for the commencement of such an order 
of things. The duties of high political offices are always laborious 
and painful ; but when there were but few or no landmarks to guide 
them, it must have been difficult indeed to have steered so correctly. 

Much debating talent had been shown in congress in every stage 
of organizing and making these laws, the passage of which circum- 
stances imperiously demanded ; but there was no particular display 
of eloquence from any side of the house, until the British treaty 
called it forth ; and perhaps, at no time since, have higher powers 
been developed in our national assembly, than on that subject. The 
champions, for and against, came forward and fought valiantly. It 
was a new question ; and there might have been some honest differ- 
ences ; but it was debated upon party grounds, and so decided. Who 
were right or who were Avrong it matters not, as it regards these 
lectures ; it is mentioned as an era in our eloquence, so memorable, 
that American talent, in speaking, is never mentioned without some 
allusion to the debate on Jay's treaty. 

Literature and science are near in their relationship, and seldom 
known to be far separated. Literature has generally received more 
attention in the early ages of nations than science. The sweet in- 
fluences of Orion and Pleiades had been sung for ages in poetry, 
before science had marked their courses or weighed them in her 
balance ; and- science, after all the discoveries she ha?: made, has 
adopted the terms used by taste and imagination, long before these 
discoveries were thought of. Every profession^ to be respectable, 
must unite both in some degree. Without both, they are only 
trades, possessing neither dignity, nor refinement, nor interest. Ba- 
con was the first among the lawyers Avho brought taste into the 
science of the profession. For this, he was derided by Coke as un- 
sound and fanciful. Bacon could do nothing without leaving the 
impressions of mind, taste, and elegant novelty upon it. He laid 
hold of all the fabulous history of gods and demigods, and heroes, 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 115 

and laid bare its hidden meaning, and, by his explanations, gave 
utility, point, and beauty, to that which before seemed useless, 
dull, and extravagant. It is the pride of the present day, that his 
fame has been defended, and his honesty proved, by one of our own 
countrymen, after it had been surrounded by falsehood and preju- 
dice, for more than a century and a half. A writer of the first ta- 
lents, in the North American Review, a few years since, had the 
honour of showing the world, that Bacon deserved the epithets 
brightest, wisest qjf mankind ; but that " meanest" was added at 
first by wickedness, and perpetuated by one who cared but little 
whether the epithet was just or unjust, if he could make the libel 
^^ paint a moral, or adorn a tale." Bacon treated the law as a 
science capable of employing the graces of literature. After a con- 
siderable interval, Blackstone wrote his commentaries, which proved 
that the fundamental principles of law might be conveyed, even in 
a choice and clear style, without any quaintness, abruptness, or 
tedious repetition ; and, like other subjects of less gravity, Lord 
Mansfield delivered his opinions in the best phraseology the English 
language woidd permit of in argument or illustration. The law- 
yers of our ovra country were men of learning before the revolu- 
tion, but the manner of arguing at the bar, to the court or jury, was 
not remarkable for refinement or delicacy. Coarse attacks and 
sharp retorts were common between members of the bar ; and the 
court either maintained a hard-featured silence, or broke in upon 
their sparrings with surly dignity. That gentlemanly courtesy, 
which reigns from one part of our country to another, among 
judges and advocates, was, for many years, unknown, or thought 
improper for a tribunal of justice. Not only the arguments of 
counsel, but the opinions of the bench, are now given with some re- 
gard to literary taste ; and one not acquainted with law terms, may 
read the reports without being offended with a parade of technical 
terms or involved sentences. Tliis branch of science is rapidly in- 
creasing ; already we have more than three hundred volumes of 
American reports in law and equity ; and, as the present generation 
of lawyers must go through such a mass of American law deci- 
sions, it is fortunate that some regard has been paid to the style in 
which these cases are made up. Some of these opinions might be 
selected, which have the freshness and spirit of animated truth con- 
veyed in exquisite taste. Facts are not the less forcible, because 
they are happily arranged, nor reasonings less convincing, because 
they are well expressed. The professional men are trying to dif- 
fuse as much intelligence and taste in the community as possible, in 
order that a day of purer literature should succeed. Much has been 
done, and much more has been planned to be effected hereafter j the 



116 LECTURES ON 

numerous agents are busy, and in concert and harmony, in the 
great work of spreading the sciences and literature throughout the 
land. 

The literature of theology in this country suffered, as well as the 
literature and science of other professions, during the revolution. 
The pulpit rang with patriotism and politicks, and harangues upon 
the good and sound christian duty of fighting for freedom ; all very 
excellent lessons for the times, and which certainly had their uses. 
After the warning appeals to the brave defenders of the country, it 
was dull to go back to detailing the enormities of papal power, or 
speaking of the great beast of seven heads and ten horns ; there- 
fore his holiness was left quite alone, except now and then in some 
good man's form of prayer, from which the epithets of abhorrence 
for Babylon never had been expunged. Dissertations on AntinO' 
mians. Pelagians, and all the host of sectarians, had begun to grow 
stale, and the doctrines of eternal decrees and predestination were 
not so attractive to the new generations as they had been to their 
fathers. From all appearances, the timid began to fear that the pul- 
pit had lost its legitimate, primitive influences. Under this impres- 
sion, many were turned from the study of this profession, who 
were intended for it by their parents, and engaged in medicine or 
law. At this weak moment, if the defenders of the faith will allow 
that there ever were such moments, infidelity reared its mon- 
strous head, and stalked through our part of Christendom with gi- 
gantick strides ; but, as it has often happened, that which threatened 
destruction to the altar and the priest, was the cause of giving new and 
lasting honour to both. Infidelity had for years been disseminated by 
the philosophers into inquisitive minds, but had never come upon 
us in the form of popular eloquence, and had not reached common 
nainds engaged in ordinary pursuits, until about the time of the 
French revolution ; it now came under the potential form of supe- 
riour wisdom, free from the thraldom of error. It dealt out a 
strong denial of the great truths of the gospel, and made impu- 
dence, with now and then a flash of witty scurrility, pass for com- 
mon sense and true reasoning upon the revelations of God to man, 
through nature and her laws, and by the inspirations of holy writ. 
At first, great shipwreck was made of the faith of thousands 5 the 
weak were bewildered, and the unlearned entangled. The truly 
pious still believed that the church was built upon a rock, and that 
the gates of hell should not, finally, prevail against it, yet they were 
discouraged at the progress of infidelity, and were cut to the heart 
at hearing the authenticity of the scriptures doubted, and the minis- 
ters of our holy religion ridiculed in every possible form of con- 
tempt ; called by opprobrious epithets : charged with ignorance and 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 117 

hypocrisy ; and their downfall prophesied with confidence and joy. 
For a while there was some confusion in the church, but the purest 
men soon roused themselves from idleness, or rather from idle dis- 
putes about trifles, or non-essentials, and many of them plunged 
into the depths of learning, to answer the falsehoods and sneers of 
the scoffers, who laid pretensions to having penetrated into the re- 
cesses of oriental literature, and having detected the errours of Chris- 
tianity. The contest was animated, and the ministers of light 
struggled hard with the ministers of darkness. Great minds en- 
tered the contest, and, after a while, tlie dreams of Condorcet and 
the scurrihties of Paine, were swept away together, and infidelity 
was first scouted by learning, piety, and taste, and, at length, pro- 
scribed by the irresistible power of fashion. The works of Watson 
and Tytler, and, towards the close of the struggle, of many others, 
were found, not only in the hands of the polemick, or in the library 
of the speculative, but on the toilets of the fair, with the last work 
of the imagination from Southey or Campbell ; for the ecclesiastical 
writers had added to the science of theology the most sublime of 
all contemplations, the charms of literature and taste. The reading 
and thinking part of the community were delighted to witness the 
commencement of a new era in the rhetorick, eloquence, and logick 
of the pulpit; useless divisions and subdivisions, and their scholastick 
divinity, with loose and spongy declamation, gave place to fair, in- 
ductions, correct illustrations, and philanthropick views. The ways 
of God to man were satisfactorily justified to the understandings of 
the mighty in intellect, and to the humble and lowly seekers of the 
truth. Religion wore the smile of innocence and the robe of purity, 
as she was destined to do from the beginning. The charms of a 
delicate and finished literature now came from the pulpit, and the 
temple of God became, as it ought ever to be, a place of instruction 
for the mind and for the affections, as well as for learning the great 
doctrines of salvation. 



118 LECTURES ON 



LECTURE VIII. 



•' The poet grieves to find his page grow scant, 
And he must stint the praise of those he loves ; 
Nor number half that cluster round his pen." 

Among the literati of our country, in the different ages of her growth, 
may be numbered many eminent physicians, who were not only 
useful in their profession, but distinguished for a spirit of inquiry 
and a knowledge of letters. At the first settlement of the provinces, 
the clergy were the physicians, and often the surgeons of the com- 
munity. They practised, in general, without fees, from a religious 
belief that they ought not to receive any compensation for their ser- 
vices, as what they could do for the body was intimately connected 
with the cure of souls. This union of the professions had long 
been in use in Europe. The confessors of the convents and monas- 
teries had made, in many orders, the healing art a part of their 
vows; and after the suppression of the religious houses in England, 
by Henry VIII., the clergy still continued the art among the people ; 
and, after the reformation was entirely effected, kept up the custom 
without any dread from the bulls against the practice of dissection. 

The first settlers of Plymouth and Massachusetts Bay, as weU as 
those of Jamestown, had physicians and surgeons with them, Ga- 
ger, an eminent surgeon, came to Charleston in 1630, but soon feU 
a victim to what has since been called the spotted fever. He prac- 
tised physick as well as surgery. Firmin, a physician and surgeon, 
in 1639, was settled at Ipswich, but left the profession for that of 
divinity, which was the safest road to distinction in those days. 

The skill of the early physicians was speedily put to the test, for, 
besides the fevers incident to the hard living of new settlers, the 
small-pox and yellow fever were soon brought among them from the 
West-Indies ; and, after several years, the " cynanche maligna" baf- 
fled all their skill for a time. The measles, often an obstinate dis- 
ease, was constantly among the new settlements. The yellow fever, 
which we now trust has left for ever most of our cities, prevailed, in 
its most malignant form, in Charleston, South Carolina, in 1699, 
1703, 1732, 1739, 1740, 1745, 1748; and Dr. Harris says it was 
there in 1761 and 1764. This fever prevailed in Philadelphia in 
1741, 1747, 1762, and 1793; in New-York in 1792, 1798, and several 
times since. Hutchenson says, that, as early as 1693, it was prera- 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 119 

lent in Boston. It came from the West-Indies in the fleet of Sir 
Francis Wheeler, which was sent from that station to join the New- 
England forces, destined against Quebeck. This fleet lost 1300 
sailors out of 2100, and 1800 soldiers out of 2400. Previous to this 
period, a disease swept through the country in 1647 ; its precise 
character has never been known ; the Indians fell victims to it, as 
well as the European colonists ; and in 1655 it was nearly as exten- 
sive and fatal. The small-pox was a great scourge ; it prevailed in 
Boston in 1089, 1702, 1721, 1730, 1752, 1764, 1776, and in 1792 ; and 
the probability is, that it was as frequent in other cities. We state 
these facts, to show that there were constantly subjects for the inqui- 
ries of the medical mind; and as early as 1647, Thomas Thatcher, 
of Weymouth, in Massachusetts, turned his attention to the subjects 
of diseases, and wrote a treatise on the small-pox and measles, call- 
ed " a brief guide in the small-pox and measles." He was a great 
man, learned as a mathematician, and a practical mechanick, whose 
inventive genius was equal to his scientifick acquirements. He was 
also a profound oriental scholar, and had explored all the wisdom 
of the East in the healing art. This treatise of Thatcher's was pro- 
bably the first book written in this country, upon any of the diseases 
incident to it. This eminent physician, scholar, and divine, died at 
the age of fifty-eight ; a greater man than whom, this country has 
not since produced. At this time, some of the physicians educated 
abroad, attracted by the novelty of a new country, or dissatisfied 
with the old world, came among our ancestors to diffuse their in- 
formation, and to find new sources of knowledge. Robert Child, 
educated at the imiversity of Padua, came to Massachusetts as early 
as 1646. The name of this physician was connected with an at- 
tempt made to diffiise a spirit of religious toleration, which received 
the censures of the magistrates, but which may form his eulogium 
now, however severe they were thought to be at that time. The 
next physician and surgeon of note in our annals, is Gershom Bulk- 
ley, of Connecticut, son of the learned Mr. Bulkley, of Concord, in 
Massachusetts. He was a clergyman ; in Philip's war of 1676, was 
appointed surgeon to the Connecticut troops, and such was the 
confidence of the legislature in his abilities, that he was made, by 
their order, one of the council of war. 

The next publication from a professor of medicine, that I can 
find, but probably my researches may not have been so thorough 
on this subject as on some other subjects, was one of Dr. Douglass' 
on the small-pox, whose character I have sketched in a former lec- 
ture. He was opposed to inoculation, and ridiculed Boyleston, 
who was there in 1721, introducing the practice of it. This pro- 
voked Boyleston to a defence. Cotton Mather had his share in the 



120 LECTURES ON 

dispute ; he was in favour of tlie practice. At this time, Nathaniel 
Wilhams, a clergyman, a schoohnaster, successor to old master 
Cheever, and a distinguished physician also, being a good-natured 
man, wrote a humourous dialogue upon this dispute, entitled "Mun- 
dungus, Sawney, Academicus, a debate ;" these names glanced at 
the different characters who had been distinguished in the dispute ; 
and it is said to contain the arguments on both sides of the question, 
as far as facts had then developed principles. The old physicians 
spoke of this work with great respect. Williams was a man of such 
benevolence and sincerity, that in that day of gratuitous epithets, he 
was called " the beloved physician." The next work was a treatise 
on pharmacy, by Thomas Harwood, a good medical writer of some 
eminence. This work was published in 1732. In 1740, Dr. Thomas 
Cadwallader published an essay on the " Iliack Passion," which gave 
him great celebrity in this country and in England. In 1745, he 
published some medical papers in the " Royal Transactions, Lon- 
don." This was the mode pursued by eminent physicians in this 
country ; for the fact of appearing in such a publication, was suffi- 
cient to ensure the attention of the publick, or that part of it one 
would wish to attract. Dr. Cadwallader was one of the first profes- 
sors in the medical art, who, in this country, taught his pupils from 
hospital practice ; being one of the visiting physicians in the Phila- 
delphia hospital, which was founded in 1752. 

Previously, the subject of plants had attracted the attention of 
men fond of pursuing nature in " the herb and flower." Mark Cates- 
by had the honour of being among the first engaged in this pur- 
suit in this country. He was sagacious and indefatigable, but his 
works are far inferior to Clayton's Flora Virginiana. The history of 
the labours of this great botanical work is very singular. The art 
of printing and engraving in this country, woidd not admit of print- 
ing a flora here ; he therefore sent his production to Leyden, to pro- 
fessor Gronovius, who published it in several editions ; the first of 
them in 1739, the second in 1743, the third in 1762. Clayton began 
this work in 1705, when the forests were extensive, and when the 
lily of the valley and the mountain daisy breathed their fragrance 
on the same gale. Dudley and Douglass, whom we have named 
before, were at the same time engaged in the same pursuit. Clay- 
ton's descriptions of the plants he collected are remarkable for 
neatness and accuracy, and often beautiful and elegant. It is a 
fact worthy of notice, that some of the finest descriptions to be 
found any where, are in the works of naturalists and botanists. 
Some descriptions of plants by Linnaeus, Darwin, and their fellow- 
labourers in the garden of nature, are models of beauty j and what 



AMERICAN LITERATURE, 121 

can surpass in splendour Biiffon's description of the horse, the pea- 
cock, and the eagle ? 

Every part of our country puts in just claims for distinction in 
the medical profession; Doctor William Ball, of South Carolina, who 
was a graduate of Harvard college, defended a medical thesis, 
with ability, at Leyden, in 1734. He was for many years eminent 
in his native state. Doctors Thomas Bond, and Middleton, made the 
first publick dissection, in 1750. This was done by leave of a court 
of law. Josiah Bartlett, of Exeter, New-Hampshire, wrote on the 
" cynanche maligna," which had been prevalent in New-England ; 
and John Jones wrote at the commencement of the revolutionary 
war, a treatise " on wovmds and fractures," for the use of the army. 
I have collected these facts, with many others that I shall not trouble 
you with, respecting the medical faculty, simply to show that this 
profession has had its share in the literature of our country. Within 
the half century, it is well known that in Europe and this country, 
they have raised the standard of the profession, by banishing, as far 
as possible, all empyricism from their borders. This is a profession 
in which ignorance has heretofore so often hid herself, and gulled 
the world by pretensions, that the satirists have in every age, poured 
out upon it their surcharged vials of wrath ; but the historian now 
sharpens his pen to write their praise. Hippocrates describes a 
quack, as a being " no laws could reach, and no ignominy disgrace." 
The medical profession has often wisely resorted to letters for im- 
mortality. It is not the cure, but the record of it only, that we can 
see. To prove the altitude of the medical character in our country, 
we need only look to the earliest medical school in America. Wlien, 
in 1768, a medical college was established at Philadelphia, what a 
cluster of distinguished men were collected to give it popularity. 
Shippen, Cadwallader, and a host of others, were ready and active 
ministers of science to diifuse its advantages. " A good physician" 
(says the scriptures) is from the Lord ; and to continue the oriental 
phraseology — a Hospital well regulated, and bountifully endowed 
to heal the maladies of the mind and body, may be said to be a per- 
petual lamp of life in the temple of nature ; and those whose duty 
it is to watch, should never slumber or sleep on their posts. 

At the time of the revolution, there were a goodly number of 
active men in the profession of medicine, who took a part in the 
conflict. Warren, Church, Bull, Finch, and others, had taken the 
place of Perkins, Cutter, Clarke, and others, in Massachusetts; and 
in other States, there were also many of the physicians who were 
an effective and active class of men. They had defects, no doubt, in 
their education, for they had many difficulties to contend with, but 
none that could not be overcome. Many of them had distinguished 

16 



122 LECTURES ON 

themselves by their writings in favour of civil liberty, and it was 
necessary for them to push forward and take an active part. Some 
of them entered the army professionally, and others gave up the 
lancet for the sword. Among the officers of the army of the revo- 
lution, whose profession had been that of physick, were, Warren, 
Mercer, St. Clair, Gadsden, Cobb, Brooks, Bricket ; and who were 
braver than they ? In political life, the profession has been conspi- 
cuous ; before the adoption of the federal constitution, the profession 
could number some of the first men in Congress from their body. 
And since the constitution has been in operation, there have been also 
many of distinction in publick life. As orators, there has been no 
small share of eloquence among them. This has been proved in 
the halls of legislation often, but more often, and more happily, in 
the lecture room ; there the subjects are neither artificial nor con- 
ventional, but natural, and nature makes her votaries eloquent. 

As poets as well as warriors, the medical faculty has been distin- 
guished. We have, in our account of American poets, mentioned 
Hopkins, Church, Warren, Ladd, Bryant, Shaw, Boyd, Percival, and 
other bards, who, while they plucked the misletoe as Druids, ana- 
lysed, as chemists and philosophers, the nut gall of the same oak on 
which the parasite had grown. It is impossible to mention all in a 
short course of lectures ; but I cannot pass over some names 
without paying a tribute to their virtues, if it be only in a hasty breath. 
In every great enterprise, more depends upon the character of the 
few who zealously engage in it, than upon the many, Avho may take 
cursory and imperfect views of it, and with only faint motives for 
its prosperity. It was fortunate, that such a man as Rush should 
have been found at the close of the revolution, to assist in building 
up an American school of medicine. He was fitted for the task. 
His temperament was ardent, and his feelings enthusiastick ; he 
had the rare faculty of communicating this enthusiasm to others ; 
and his pupils pursued their inquiries with an impetus, derived from 
him, which carried them rapidly and pleasantly through the laby- 
rinths of science. His eloquence, his arguments, and his love of 
labour, did much to break the spell which hung over the profession, 
" that no man could be qualified for a professor, in any of the 
branches of medicine, who had not been in a foreign school." He 
taught that nature was the same in every country, and that when 
she was properly interrogated, her responses would be the same at 
all times. 

The medical school at New- York has had a share of the intel- 
ligence of the country in every stage of its growth ; James, Middle- 
ton, and others, distinguished in their day, have been succeeded by 
men of science and letters. 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 123 

The medical school of Harvard University, was in contemplation 
for many years, and liberal donations had been made for the purpose 
of its establishment, but the situation of the country forbade its com- 
mencement until 1782. Doctor John Warren, brother of General 
Warren who feU at Bunkerhill, ardent in his patriotism as any man 
that ever lived, who entered the army as a common soldier after the 
death of his brother, probably from the strong excitement at this 
event, and continued in it as a surgeon for several years, was at 
the head of this school. He had at this time left the army and 
settled in Boston, in his profession, among his brother's friends, and 
had before 1782 delivered a course of lectures on anatomy. The 
students of Harvard University had an opportunity of attending 
them. Wlien the school was opened at Cambridge within the col- 
lege walls, Warren was put at the head of the newly established in- 
stitution, and Doctors Dexter and Waterhouse were also appointed 
professors. Doctor Warren was well qualified for this important 
situation ; he had genius, patience, industry, and eloquence, and all 
were required for the commencement of such a school. He secured 
the understanding of his hearers, while he charmed their imagina- 
tions, and without a struggle he led them through the course of his 
lectures with pleasure, admiration, and profit. The army had been 
a good school for him, for there he had witnessed the diseases of 
camps and the wounds of battles, and no lesson was lost on such a 
mind. He, like Rush, had the faculty of inspiring his pupils with 
love, confidence, and admiration, and, at the same time, with an 
ardent passion to excel in their profession. The influence of his ex- 
ample was more powerful than his precepts, in teaching the many 
axioms he wished to inculcate. Independent of his professional 
fame, he has left some excellent specimens of his taste and talents as 
a classical writer. He has left a son who is among the first of his 
profession, and who does great credit to the advantages which his 
father gave him, and who, by his attention to the progress of know- 
ledge, has quartered new honours on his arms as a professional man. 

The medical school of Dartmouth College was the fourth institu- 
tion of the kind which was founded in this coimtry. In 1798, Dr. 
Nathan Smith was appointed sole professor, and for many years 
lectured on all the usual branches of medicine taught in a course of 
medical instruction. This was indeed a Herculean task, but he met 
it manfully, passing from one subject to another with astonishing 
ease. His labours were often embarrassed by the cavils of the sus- 
picious and envious ; but he marched on, in the dignity of conscious 
genius, and conquered a prejudice at every step. He, too, had a 
spice of that enthusiasm which distinguished his great predecessors 
and coadjutors in the task of building up the schools of medicine. 



324 AMERICAN LITERATURE. 

He, too, had eloquence to assist him in making his way agamst a 
thousand evils. He passed from the grave to the pleasant with 
such readiness, that the delicate shades of the transitions were not 
always noticed ; but when the history of our great men is written 
out, the enterprise, genius, perseverance, and success of Dr. Nathan 
Smith, will be remembered by every lover of science. 

It will not be necessary to speak of others, or to follow up the 
progress of the healing art to the present day, as this has been done 
with great ability by several distinguished medical gentlemen ; my 
only object in these details bemg to show the course of intelligence 
in this country, in this department of knowledge, as well as in other 
branches which are more directly in our path, in the pursuit of 
whatever can give us pleasure, intelligence, or profit. 

One other memorable name I must here mention : the patri- 
arch of the physicians of the present age. Dr. Holyoke, has just gone 
down to the tomb, having numbered among men more than an 
hundred years. He lived in an eventful period, for during his time, 
the various branches of his profession had advanced more than for 
twenty preceding centuries ; and yet, it may be said, that he not 
only knew what had previously been taught, but had kept up with 
the progress of knowledge to the last year of his life. I first knew 
him when he was near eighty, healthy and intellectual, and anxious 
to be possessed of all that was going on in the literary and scientifick 
world, as well as of all matters in his ovvn profession. He acquired 
information with great ease ; for besides a natural quickness of per- 
ception, he had a thorough early education ; for being the son of a 
literary man, he was made a scholar from the cradle ; was graduated 
from college early in life, and commenced his professional career while 
in his minority. He made it, for many years, a practice to read some 
portion of the classicks daily ; but his mind was rather mathemati- 
cal, inquisitive, and philosophical, than creative or tasteful ; not that 
he was deficient in imagination or taste, but these properties of the 
mind were not his distinguishing characteristicks. 

His moral and social habits were commendable and attractive ; 
for a pure philanthropy was seen running through the whole course 
of his conduct. His disposition was bland and fraternal ; and like 
most true philosophers, he loved to find himself surrounded by 
young, vigorous, fruitful minds ; and in the early times, when cus- 
tom had established an awful distance between master and pupil, he 
drew his so near him by the cords of affection, that he had no difficulty 
in ascertaining the number of their talents, and the weight of their ar- 
guments. He was singular, perhaps, in making Euclid a part of their 
professional studies ; but he examined them as often in this work as 
in Hippocrates j and it was a maxim with him, which he constantly 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 125 

gave to his pupils, never lose sight of ancient philosopJnj in modern 
improvements ; yet he rejoiced in all the lights that were bursting 
in upon the profession of medicine and surgery ; and he was not far 
behind the reformers themselves, in adopting whatever was found 
salutary by a well tried practice ; and he was an admirable judge 
of what was good, for he brought an honest and serene mind to bear 
upon every subject of discussion. He was not satisfied with bril- 
liant theories unassisted by well tested facts, properly authenticated 
by careful and intelligent men, competent in every respect to decide 
a case upon professional and philosophical principles. 

He never sought honours or distinctions, and never meddled with 
politicks any farther than to show his patriotism, and his willingness 
to trust his fortune and freedom with others of his choice. A deep 
sense of duty sometimes brought him out ; for there were some 
situations he could not refuse — such as that of president of the Ame- 
rican Academy ; and also that of president of the Massachusetts 
Medical Societj^ wlien it was first organized ; but the greatest por- 
tion of his time was devoted to his professional duties. His publi- 
cations were not numerous, but were of a very high character for a 
careful arrangement of facts, and a pure induction of principles. 

Such a protracted life as Dr. Holyoke's — a union of a sound mind 
with a healthy body, is seldom enjoyed by man in the present age. 
Indeed, it has rarel)'^ happened that any seer, or sage, at any period 
of time, since the days of the primitive patriarchs, has been permitted 
to look on, or mingle in the affairs of men, active and strong, for 
more than thirty years beyond the threescore and ten — that boun- 
dary in the revised code of nature. It is pleasant, however, now 
and then, to contemplate the course of such a favoured being ; — a 
philosopher, philanthropist, and christian, who had reasoned so 
much, and felt and acted so long ; one whose disciples of every age, 
from decrepitude to youth, were around him ; from those w-ho had 
thrown the lancet and the bolus aside, to young aspirants for Escu- 
lapian honours, in whose trembling hands these emblems of art and 
science were yet unused. To exhibit such a character fully is dif- 
ficult, if not impossible ; there seems to be nothing in the common 
pathway of our experience for illustration ; nothing to liken him 
to ; we turn necessarily to the muses for aid, and adopting the lan- 
guage of the Persian poet, say, that such a man resembles the god 
of day lingering long in the western skies to catch the incense and 
to receive the homage of the flowers as they gratefully turn to him 
in his decline ; fowers which his warmer rays had awakened to life 
and beauty ; or to soar to higher similitudes in the regions of inspi- 
ration and prophesy, a hale, virtuous, intellectual man of an hundred 
years old, communing with heaven and dispensing wisdom on earth, 
L2 



120 LECTURES ON 

who seems to have the power and favour of the God of Israel 
vouchsafed to him, to stay the course of time, and to say, " Sun, 
stand thou still upon Giheon; and thou, moon, in the valley of Aja- 
lon^'' until reason, religion, and philosophy, have avenged themselves 
on their enemies. 

In quitting this class of intelhgent men, we pass to that of our 
historians, particularly those who have written since the revolution, 
as we have mentioned those who wrote before that time ; like all 
others, this class has various claims to distinction ; most of them 
have shown some industry in collecting materials, and some few of 
them talents for arranging them, and giving them in a proper dress 
to the publick. We will take them as they come to our recollec- 
tion, without regard to the order of the time in which they were 
Avritten. 

Belknap's history of New-Hampshire, is a well written work ; 
the author Avas a good scholar, a man of great honesty and generous 
feelings ; as well educated for an historian as any one who has ever 
undertaken the task in this country. His materials were scanty, and 
scattered over a thinly settled territory ; one half of what was to be 
said was in tradition, and the other on scanty records ; but the nar- 
rations were honest and the records true ; and by the help of a tho- 
rough knowledge of the people, and an intimate acquaintance with 
contemporaneous records, he was enabled to get at the truth, and 
nearly the whole truth ; but although his history is of a high order, 
we think that his biographical works are better than his history or 
his sermons, which have been for many years highly valued. Those 
who knew this amiable and accomplished writer, will hardly hear 
a criticism upon his works ; for the sweetness of his disposition, and 
the blandishments of his manners, went much farther in the estima- 
tion of his character than the elegance of his pen. 

The history of Maine, by Sullivan, is the ground Avork for a future 
history of that growing state. Sidlivan was a man of genius and 
research ; but was too much employed as a politician and a lawyer, 
to devote much time to literary labours ; but if he did not find time 
to give a finishing touch to his history of that province, the publick 
are much indebted for that which he did write. 

Tlie history of Massachusetts has been more fidly written than 
that of any other province. It was the theatre of important events, 
and the nursery of many other settlements in New-England, and 
in the latter period of more distant places. After the liistorians we 
have already mentioned, come Hubbard's History, Church's Indian 
Wars, and historical sketches of a smaller kind. There are many 
well written historical Avorks of particular periods, such as Minott's, 
Bradford's, and others. Morse and Parish have written a school 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 127 

book history of New-England, and Hannah Adams has published 
a very neat and accurate compendium of New-England history, 
"When the historian shall appear to write a full account of us, 
there will be found many excellent materials in the collections of 
the Massachusetts historical society. It is a subject of congratula- 
tion, that other states are following the example of Massachusetts, 
and rescuing from oblivion valuable facts for the future historians of 
our country. Our activity cannot be too great, for every hour as it 
passes shrouds some circumstance in obscurity, and the grave- 
digger, time, is always busy in burying the deeds as well as the gene- 
rations of man. 

The history of Vermont has been written by Professor Williams, 
and no one will say that he has not made the most of the scanty 
materials he had for his work. Wlien he wrote, the state was in its 
infancy. It would be well now to continue this history ; for the 
rapid growth of that portion of our country, in population, wealth, 
and intelligence, has made its history a subject of interest and in- 
quiry. 

The history of Rhode Island has not yet been fully written. The 
great father of toleration in this comitry, Roger Williams, made that 
state, as is weU known, an asylum for those disturbed by the narrow 
views and bigoted feelings of other states. This great philanthro- 
pist, R. Williams, wrote a valuable treatise upon the language, man- 
ners, and customs of the Indians in his vicinity, which, after having 
been locked up for ages in some library in England, has at length 
reached us as a matter of information and curiosity. The Rev. Mr. 
Callender published a curious sermon, which, when enlarged, made 
a very excellent historical sketch of Rhode Island, for the time. 
And the Hon. Mr. Hunter, in a fourth of July oration, favoured the 
publick with some vivid sketches of their revolutionary history ; but 
it remains for his pen, or that of some other intelligent Rhode 
Islander, to vvrite out her history. 

The history of ConnecticvU has been written with talents and taste, 
and perhaps as minutely as was required at the time when Trum- 
bull published his work. The old libraries of the ancient families of 
that state must certainly contain matter for a most circumstantial 
and minute history of it. The first settlers were of a literary 
class. They left Massachusetts to take up their residence on the 
Connecticut and the Thames ; and carried their axes on their shoul- 
ders, and their ink-horns in their pockets ; and sat down to write a 
full journal of their travels through the wilderness, to satisfy the 
anxious friends they left at Massachusetts Bay, before they had 
finished the log-hut to shelter them from the wind and rain. 

Of the history of New-York it may be said, that the historian did 



128 LECTURES ON 

as much towards making a good history as could be expected from 
any one, at the time in Avhich he wrote ; when he had but few aids 
from extensive collections of boolcs. The Dutch history of the co- 
lony, if he ever saw it, was probably a sealed book to him, from an 
ignorance of the langiiage in which it was written. M'CuUock has 
■written one lately. 

The history of New-Jersey is not sufficiently full or particular 
to satisfy the age ;— nor can that of Maryland as yet lay greater 
claims to distinction. These states have many who can supply all 
deficiencies if they will look about. 

The history of Virginia has been written at different periods, by 
several hairds ; Smith's, Stith's, and Beverley's, we have already 
noticed. Burk and Geradin have continued the subject, and m fact, 
have gone over most, or all, of the same ground with their prede- 
cessors. Mr. Jefferson's Notes on Virginia, which are partly statis- 
tical, as well as historical, are highly valuable to those who wish to 
be acquainted with that state. Chief Justice Marshall, in his life of 
Washington, has done great justice to the history of Virginia. It 
has been said of Caesar, that his biography was the history of Borne 
while Ccesar lived ; but in the case of Washington, the biographer 
found it necessary for his subject to write nearly the whole history 
of his country ; this is a great work ; it has nothing in it of the 
splendour of Robertson, the grandiloquence of Gibbon, or the 
sweetness of Goldsmith ; but it is a monument of stability — a pyra- 
mid of granite, of majestick dimensions, that will stand in the waste 
of time on the frontiers of our history ; but ages may pass away be- 
fore the merits of this great mental labour will be justly appreciated. 

The history of South Carolina is from the pen of Dr. Ramsay. 
The bare mention of this fact is sufficient assurance of its excellence. 
Dr. Ramsay possessed, in an eminent degree, tlie qualifications of an 
historian ; learning, memory, research, readiness, a love of labour, 
with an easy, elegant style of composition, and a mind naturally 
active and free from prejudices. The history of the American war 
from his hand is, in all things considered, the best for general use 
extant. He lived in the time in which he wrote ; " all of which he 
saw, and a part of which he was," may be said of him, in connexion 
with the events of that period. He had means which other historians 
did not enjoy, an intimate acquaintance with the principal actors in 
the scenes he describes. After he had Avritten his history, the manu- 
script was read to those capable of judging of its correctness ; and 
of course, any errours of time or circumstance were detected and 
corrected. This historian did not stop at the revolutionary war, but 
gave his country an account of lier history from the earliest settle- 
ments ; and then a succinct universal history, most happily con- 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 129 

densed. Of late years, Prentis, Hale, and others, have written 
succinct histories of the United States, which are of a respectable 
character. That from the pen of Mr. Hale received a premium from 
some historical society, for its superiority over others as adapted to 
youths. 

The productions of our theologians, perhaps, have not been so nu- 
merous as in former times ; but those sermons and polemick dis- 
cussions which we have had of late, are marked with high charac- 
teristicks of mind and taste. Emmons, Dwight, Freeman, Buck- 
minster, Griffin, and many others, evince deep erudition and evan- 
gelical piety ; and the controversial writings of Channing, Stewart, 
and others, who have lately been engaged in the unitarian and trini- 
tarian controversy, have discovered that biblical literature is a fa- 
vourite study among the clergy of the present day, and that they 
have pushed their examinations into other times, and made them- 
selves masters of ancient lore. If some are grieved, all are in- 
structed, and a free inquiry cannot in the end be useless. Irreve- 
rential inquisitiveness is a species of profanity, but a holy wrestling 
with God to obtain the dispositions of his nature, and the determi- 
nations of his will, is the amount of what is called the study of 
theology, which is at once the prerogative and the duty of intellec- 
tual beings. We have now in this country more than seven thousand 
teachers of divinity, who form the upper class of instructors in this 
community. If these are enlightened as they should be, we can- 
not perish for lack of vision. 

In the biographical department of literature, we have had several 
writers of talents, who have as patiently as possible, when we con- 
sider the scanty remuneration they generally receive, collected facts 
for the purpose of illustrating the lives of some of our distinguished 
men : Belknap, Elliott, Allen, Hardie, and several others, have pub- 
lished their collections, much to the advantage of the commu- 
nity. Belknap was a smooth Addisonian writer of great sincerity 
and faithfulness, without a single particle of bitterness in his na- 
ture. He wrote his faithful chronicles with an admiration of the 
great discoverers and settlers of this country ; but he had no motive 
to make them other than they were. These lives are not so much 
known and read as they would have been, if they had come from 
some ordinary novelist, and had been portraits of fictitious person- 
ages. 

Elliott was a great antiquarian, and a very honest man ; he had 
treasured up a great many facts, and knew all the traditions of his 
country ; but he knew but little of book-making, and, in truth, paid 
but little attention to the style of his sketches. Dr. Elliott was es- 
teemed, among his literary friends, as a most admirable antiquarian 

17 



130 LECTURES ON 

and a fair-minded critick ; and his volume of biography, ahhough 
carelessly written, and more carelessly printed, will do honour to his 
memory, and will be in the hands of all who wish to know any 
thing of the character of the early worthies of New-England. Allen 
was educated in modern times, and had a more extensive acquaint- 
ance with facts than most biographers. He was patient of labour, 
and collected his facts, and wrote his commentaries upon events, and 
sketched his traits of character, while a librarian of Cambridge uni- 
versity, with the best library on American history and American 
biography in the world, at his full command. It is said, that the 
publick are soon to be favoured with a new edition of this work; we 
hope they will not be disappointed. His whole life has been devoted 
to literary pursuits or to literary duties, and there are but few more 
capable of doing justice to the mighty dead of our country than 
President Allen, of Maine. 

One of the most valuable among American books is Holmes's 
Annals. In its first editions it was a very correct chronicle of suc- 
cessive events, but the last edition is enriched by biographical no- 
tices and pertinent remarks, and is not only history hi itself, but a 
manual for future historians. Dr. Holmes is a profound antiqua- 
rian and a sound scholar, and is happy in hving to find his labours 
duly appreciated. 

The nine volumes of the lives of the signers of the declaration of 
independence, contain no small share of fine writing. These pro- 
ductions are from different hands and of unequal excellence. It is 
well to have an opportunity of seeing these worthies at one view, 
and to be able, as it were, to enter the venerable group ; but as the 
writers were necessarily confined to one signal period of time, that 
certainly a very eventful one, the information conveyed by the pe- 
rusal of the whole is not, of course, so great nor so diversified as it 
would have been had the writers been engaged in the biography of 
the great men of our country who had lived in different epochs of 
our history. 

We have some exquisite morsels of single biographical sketches ; 
Kirkland's Life of Ames is a miniature of admirable workmanship. 
The shades are so disposed of as to give relief to the prominent fea- 
tures ; the true evidence of a master's work. Thatcher's memoir of 
Buckminster is of the same class, and, perhaps, superior in finish 
if not in conception ; and Greenwood's obituary notice of Thatcher 
has something of a kindred spirit in it. 

Several writers have given the publick the life of Washington, and 
some of them are felicitous compositions. Dr. Bancroft's, of Wor- 
cester, in Massachusetts, is one of those which will be read with in- 
terest in future days, as it is now. The Doctor has published a 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 131 

volume of sermons of much merit. The work is remarkable 
for liberality of sentiment, purity of style, and for strong direct 
reasoning on difficult matters of belief There is something re- 
freshing in his candid, bold, and pleasant manner of treating his 
subject, and you are satisfied with the writer, even when you refuse 
to become a convert to his argument. Whatever comes from the 
pen of this venerable philanthropist and christian, is finely marked 
with delicate and discriminating touches. 

It is difficult to speak, at the present time, of Mr. Adams' Lec- 
tures on Rhetorick. As an orator and statesmen, his fame is in 
every court. For more than forty years he has been known to the 
republick of letters as a splendid scholar. With his political life we 
have nothing to do here; but we venture to predict, that, when 
these lectures are read hereafter, free from those prejudices or par- 
tialities which are almost necessarily incorporated with our opinions 
of the works of living politicians, that they will add to the honour 
of American literature ; and, if not considered as faultless in style, 
will be ranked among the most vigorous efforts of American ge- 
nius and learning. 

Pitkin's political and civil history of the United States is a valua- 
ble work. The writer has laboured more to show causes and to 
develope principles, than to round periods and polish metaphors. 
He came to his work with much knowledge of our history, and a 
sound discriminating judgement. The practical politician should be 
thoroughly master of the contents of these volumes. There is a 
deplorable ignorance of constitutional history among us. It should not 
be so. We have had frequent occasions, in the course of these lec- 
tures, to speak of medical works, and of the medical mind in our 
country, with great respect. They deserve it. The journals of that 
profession, though more directly belonging to scientifick and profes- 
sional knowledge than to general literature, are of a high literary 
grade. The vvriters in these periodicals have certainly acquired the 
art or mystery, for it partakes of botli, of preserving uninteresting, 
and even revolting facts, if seen too nakedly, in the beauties of lan- 
guage and the charms of style. They have perfumed and cleansed 
the lazar-house ; ornamented the cinerary urn, and so tastefully 
sculptured the sarcophagi, that one of dehcate nerves may walk 
among the ravings of disease and the victims of death, and reason 
upon the phenomena without disgust or terrour. Of this character 
is the work of Dr. Beck, of Albany, on Medical Jurisprudence. 
It was the first work on that subject that issued from the American 
press. The order pursued is natural, the style is easy, and the 
facts appear to have been cautiously examined, and the inferences 
from them fairly drawn ; and the illustrations are generally happy. 



132 LECTURES ON 

This work should be found in every lawyer's library. There has 
been many a victim, innocent of crime, sacrificed to an ignorance 
of the science of medical jurisprudence. Their blood must rest 
somewhere. 

The life of Fulton, by Golden, is much esteemed, and comes 
timely to ward off many criticisms upon the course Fulton had 
pursued. 

Judge Johnson's life of Green, is a work of research and extent; 
but it has not suited all tastes. Perhaps too much was expected from 
the circumstance of official elevation. 

Brown's hfe of Dr. Linn, is superiour to most writings of the kind. 
Brown excelled in drawing characters, and his subject was full of 
romantic beauty. The melancholy of the mind and imagination of 
both Brown and Linn is slightly incorporated in the colouring of 
the picture. The light falls upon it as passing through the painted 
glass of a gothick window into the chancel of a monastery, throwing 
a religious solemnity over the group of the painting, and the artist, 
and all the scene around them. 

DuNLAp's LIFE OF Brown, is a very fair and honest narrative of 
the events in the life of the American novelist and sentimental wri- 
ter ; who laboured, and suffered, and died, without receiving from 
his countrymen the rewards he deserved. Dunlap is a man of 
genius as a painter, as weU as a writer, and second to but few in 
either profession. 

We claim Washington Irving as one of our hterati ;' and are proud 
to rank him among the first of our authors. He began his literary 
career here, and for many years was a contributor to our best peri- 
odical journals. He left this country with a high reputation as a 
man of taste and talents, and with the affection and respect of the 
first circles among us ; but in Europe he has more widely extended 
his fame, by his sketch book, and other works. His tales abound in 
deep interest, his plots are finely conceived, and his descriptions feli- 
citous. His delineations of character are just and striking; and every 
article from his pen has some fine touches of the pathetick ; in this he is 
singularly successful. His language is choice, good, pure old Eng- 
lish ; and his style is polished with the most exquisite care. He 
was not, however, satisfied by resting his fame on these works, but 
looked around him for some unoccupied portion of history on which 
to seize for a lasting work ; but at length most wisely took an old 
subject, but one which will never be exhausted — the life and ad- 
ventures of Christopher Columbus. This subject contained incidents 
already related, sufficient in his hands for the purposes of making a 
most entertaining and instructive work ; and these were at his com- 
mand without going out of his library for them ; but he was not 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 133 

content to rely on any garnishments of this subject for reputation, 
but added the resuhs of long and assiduous research to new philo- 
sophical views, and more minute incidents. Fired with his theme, 
he sought the fountains for information, and drew his knowledge 
from them, all pure and fresh for his uses. The national archives 
of Spain, so long shut up from the world, were opened to him ; and 
the family papers of Columbus, that had been preserved with great 
care, were now thoroughly examined. His success has fully justi- 
fied his devotion to the cause. This was precisely such a subject as 
should have engaged the attention of such a mind. Poetry and 
fiction had nothing more splendid to offer, nor history to hold up, 
for the contemplation of man, than the life of Columbus ; tliere was 
enough of vicissitude, of glory, of heart-ache, of degradation, of 
apotheosis, to have suited an epick bard, or an oriental enthusiast. 
Had the great discoverer been " wi-apt into future times," as poets 
have imagined him to have been, one of the most delightful visions 
he could have had, would have been a sight of his own great his- 
torian. Not a misery of his existence could now be spared by his 
biographer, for they were all wanted to finish so noble a character. 
Who is there now so dull as would Avish to find that all the troubles 
of Columbus were fictitious ; and that, full-fed with wealth, and 
overloaded with honours, he had sunk to " the vuJgar level of the 
great ;" and had passed the last of his days in the stately magnifi- 
cence of a Spanish grandee? Not one; his chams, his dungeon, his 
death, his obscure grave, are all sacred appendages to his fame ; nor 
were his honours and his virtues to shme in that age of superstition 
and ignorance ; three centuries, in the course of time, were required 
to bring forth a historian for him ; for it was a decree of fate, that 
the events of the life of the discoverer of the new world, should be 
fully AVTitten by one who should arise in it. 

Dr. Thatcher, author of a medical work, and a military journal 
of considerable celebrity, has published " Tlie Biography of American 
Physicians :" — the preface, containing a succinct history of the me- 
dical profession, is learned and interesting ; and the lives are writ- 
ten with great fairness, with fraternal feeling, and discover touches 
of discrimination and literary taste; and from the sources from 
whence the Doctor derived his information, and the pams he has 
taken to compose and correct whatever he had gathered, there can 
be no doubt of its being the most authentick of all our works on 
American biography. The Doctor did not begin this work until 
well advanced in years ; and of course had a very extensive acquaint- 
ance with distinguished men in his profession. The work is a 
valuable addition to our stock of biography. 

Several instructive works, in the form of letters, have appeared 
M 



134 LECTURES ON 

among us from time to time ; one from the pen of Mr. J. Q. Adams 
when abroad, to his son in this country, which is full of parental 
tenderness and valuable instructions and advice ; it ought to be read 
by all young men. 

Nathaniel H. Carter, who is distinguished among our scholars for 
delicacy, taste, and learning, has favoured the publick with two 
volumes of letters, Avritten while on his travels through Europe, full 
of brilliant observations, classical allusions, and neat, graphick de- 
scriptions. Few volumes have given so much pleasure and instruc- 
tion as these productions. They have a sweet and gentle spirit 
rvmning throughout their contents, which, if it adds nothing to the 
author's fame at the present moment, will preserve them for future 
use, and make them more precious to the reader, when the writer, 
with his contemporaries, has passed away. Such works are plea- 
sant to read at home, and useful as guides abroad. 

Tlie life of Doctor Dwight, prefixed to his sermons, supposed to 
be from the pen of his brother, Theodore Dwight, is full of incident, 
and well written. Dwight was an excellent subject, and his bio- 
grapher was equal to his undertaking. It is more difficult to detail 
what may happen in the life of a literary man, than in that of a po- 
litician, who is in some measure identified with every passing event. 
The history of thought, and of such publications as a literary man 
may make from time to time ; or the occurrences of a school, or a 
church, or a college, all of which are important to the individual, 
and of deep interest to the community in their social and literary 
relations, are not easily traced, nor the bearing of any one circum- 
stance distinctly seen ; yet, as a whole, they often make up an im- 
portant life — as in the case of the distinguished individual we have 
mentioned. 

Within a few years past, the literati of the United States, following 
up the English, have issued periodicals of gi'eat taste and beauty of 
execution, under the name oi Souvenirs, Tokens, Forget Me Nots, 
Talisma.Tis, &c. ; which have called forth much of the youthful and 
vigorous literature of our country ; and if they cannot be put exactly 
in competition with some of those of the same class on the other 
side of the water, still they approximate so closely, that in a few 
years they may be equal in every respect. It is delightful to look 
over these fashionable publications, and find so much fine writing in 
them. A gem of prose is followed by a floweret of poesy, in which 
sweet descriptions and chaste fancies, give evidence of the improv- 
ing state of taste among our scholars. Nor is the honour conferred 
on our writers alone ; the artists of our country deservedly share in 
it. These objects of luxury have not, like many others, any im- 
proper effect upon the publick mind. The appetite for knowledge 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 135 

may become dainty by a perpetual feast of good things, but there is 
no danger of destroying the digestive facuUy by pure food, properly 
served up. The magazines assume a tasteful appearance, and the 
careful pnnter makes a careful writer. 

In one species of literature we surpass all other countries, that is, 
in our newspapers; we have more of them, most certainly, than any 
other country in the world. The increase has no parallel. The 
first paper printed in the United States was called the Boston News- 
letter ; this appeared on the 24th of April, 1704, at Boston, in Mas- 
sachusetts, by B. Green. The second was commenced in 1720, at 
the same place, and called the Boston Gazette, by Samuel Kneeland. 
In 1721, the New-England Courant was set up by James Franklin, 
an elder brother of the philosopher.- In this printing-office the Doc- 
tor began his apprenticeship at an early age. In the course of seven 
or eight years several other papers were printed in that town. 
The Greens had supported a press at Cambridge, near the college, 
from the earliest settlement of the country. Elliott's Indian Bible 
was published there in little more than six months after it was 
begun. 

The first newspaper printed in Philadelphia, was commenced 
December 22d, 1719. The first printed in New- York, is dated Oc- 
tober 16th, 1725. The first was imder the direction of Andrew 
Bradford ; and the second was edited and published by William 
Bradford. They were relations, and served their apprenticeship in 
the same office. The Philadelphia paper was called " The American 
Weekly Mercury," and that of New- York, " The New-York Ga- 
zette." The Rhode Island Gazette was set up by James Franklin, 
in October, 1732. The first in Connecticut, by James Parker, in 
1755. The first in New-Hampshire, by Daniel Fowle, in 1756. It 
is somewhat surprising that a paper should not have before this 
time been established at Portsmouth, the principal town in the pro- 
vince ; as it was a favourite harbour for the British naval comman- 
ders, and a place of fashion and intelligence. And their governor, 
at that time, was a splendid officer. In the tune of the Boston mas- 
sacre, March 5th, 1770, the statement of facts were to be sent to all 
the papers in the American provinces under Great Britain ; which 
were calculated to be about five or six and twenty. In eighteen 
years after the peace of 1783, there were about one hundred and 
eighty. Since that period, a period of twenty-six years, they have 
increased to seven hundred at least ; more than one hundred of 
them have been established within sixteen months past. 

The circulation of these vehicles of information are truly astonish- 
ing. More than fifty millions a year are constantly issued in this 
country ; the cost of which cannot be less than two millions of dol- 



136 LECTURES ON 

lars annually to the people. In moments of party strife, these sources 
of information, it must be confessed, are often tinged with party 
rancour, and in some instances poUuted by slander and falsehood ; 
but in general they diffuse information of all sorts to the community, 
and make up a considerable share in that general knowledge which 
our busy people possess, after having obtained the general elements 
in the common schools of the country. 

Until lately, periodical journals were not so successful as news- 
papers among the good people of this country. The first published 
in the provinces, was in the year 1741, by Benjamin Franklin, then 
of Philadelphia, just ten years after Edward Cave, of London, com- 
menced the Gentleman's Magazine. The English publication has 
continued until this time ; but the American was soon discontinued. 
Franklin knew that such a work was wanted in the country, and he 
thought that he would try it, at that early date ; but it was in ad- 
vance of the age. 

After the peace of 1783, there were several magazines started in 
different sections of the country, in New-York, Boston, and Phila- 
delphia, and flourished for some time with considerable success. 
Some of them are read with great pleasure at the present day. 
Matthew Carey, and his associates, published the Museum, a reposi- 
tory of literature, which flourished until the whole amounted to 
several large volumes. This was commenced in 1787, and contained 
the productions of TrumbuU, Humphrey, and Dr. Ladd, with many 
other solutions of prose and verse. This work did not expire for 
want of patronage, but ceased because the publishers found better 
business. New- York and Boston have supported a review in some 
shape or other ever since 1790. There were many well written 
pieces in these works ; but the business of reviewing had not then 
assumed its shape, and form, and power, which it has since. The 
writers touched with a faltering hand upon the errours of others ; 
but their general course was to pass in silence those they did not 
like in sentiment or manner. A bolder hand was soon tried, and 
the publick supported freedom and vivacity in discussing the merits 
of authors ; but this privilege has, since that period, often degene- 
rated into dogmatism and censoriousness. 

About the year 1801, the Port Folio was commenced by Joseph 
Dennie, in the city of Philadelphia. He had been known as the 
editor of a piquant and tasteful paper in the interiour of New-Eng- 
land, on the banks of the Connecticut river. He was then in a circle 
of wits, who threw their productions on the winds with careless 
profusion. Royal Tyler, long known as the Bonnel Thornton of 
America, who wrote that which the muses sometimes inspired in 
the shades of the evening, and blushed to acknowledge at the light 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 137 

of the morning sun, was one of the number. Dennie was free, easy, 
and readily excited to a stretch of thought, and latitude of expression, 
pardonable only, if eA'er, at the ^^ nodes cccnceque Deum;'''' but his feel- 
ings were naturally pure and sincere ; and if, for a moment, his mind, 
like the cloth made of the asbestos, received a stain by contiguity with 
impurity, the blaze of his genius, like the operation of fire upon the 
imperishable texture of the web, burnt it all pure again at its first 
kindling up. If Dennie had not that intellectual vigour which 
crushes to obtain an essence, or dissolves to develope a principle ; 
he had judgement and taste to arrange a sentence and to polish a 
period. His imagination was rich and excursive ; it knew no thral- 
dom, and spurned at all narrow bounds. He had that which the 
country wanted more than any thing else, a refined taste. The 
Port Folio was then in full circulation ; and this, more than any 
other work in the country, had an influence on the style of writing 
in our seminaries of learning. The young aspirants for fame saw 
how much the writings of Dennie were read, and they imitated him 
in their productions. This was fortunate. It is better for youths 
to emulate the flexible motions of the dancing master, to give grace 
and ease to their movements, than to practise the measured steps 
and stately demeanour of the knight in armour, before they have 
bone and muscle for the fight. Modern education, it may be said, 
has found a happy mean, or rather, has taught us how to unite both. 
Dennie did not live many years to continue his work. Since that 
period the Port Folio has fallen into other hands ; and although it 
has frequently exhibited talent, yet it has lost its relative standing 
in the republick of letters. In 1802, the Anthology was established 
at Boston. It had a very considerable character from its commence- 
ment. It was often interesting, and sometimes learned ; at times it 
assumed a consequential air and manner ; but it cannot be said that 
it had as much weight as a leading journal ought to have had in the 
country at that time. It took another shape, and a milder character, 
in the North American Review, and has since been a well conducted 
journal ; many times rivaling the first works of European fame ; 
and if an imitation, in some degree, of the Edinburgh, it has no ser- 
vility of thought or tone. The Edinburgh was the first of this class 
of works which are now so popular; and without which the literary 
world would be at a loss to fix on a course of reading to keep up 
with the literature of the day. The Edinburgh Review began its 
course as Hercules did his labours, not exactly when he was most 
wanted, but when his prowess could be most distinctly seen, and 
noted. The Edinburgh Reviewers course every field of literature, 
ancient or modern, often-times merely to show their speed and bot- 
tom. They come upon the literati as their conquerors and protec- 
M2 18 



138 LECTURES ON 

tors ; and if they deny the divine right of kings in political govern- 
ments, tliey assume tlie office of perpetual dictators in the commu- 
nity of letters. When they commenced their labours, the literary 
world was indeed overrun with monsters ; and they laid aside the 
sword and the spear, and pursued their prey with club and blun- 
derbuss, from jungle to crag, regardless of trespassing on rice- 
ground or cane-patch ; but it must be acknowledged that they did 
more good than mischief in their sport. The Quarterly followed 
with as much ferocity, but not with more power, and our country 
became the object of their direst vengeance. They saw us rising 
rapidly in the scale of nations, and thought it wise, prudent, and, 
probably, fair in politicks, to check our growth. They had no con- 
trol over the progress of population, none over the increase of 
wealth, which was greater than they could imagine, or imderstand. 
Nothing was left but to attack our institutions, or manners and 
habits ; and this was done Avith rancour and profligacy, and without 
regard to truth. They seized upon wortliless tales of travellers, 
who wrote solely for the purpose of furnishing food for the cormo- 
rant appetites of these haters of America ; the ■writers knowing that 
by such means they would be favourably noticed by the Reviewers, 
and of course their trash would find a ready market. Part of the 
people of England wei'e with them from ancient prejudices, a part 
opposed to them from information and principle ; but a still greater 
part were ignorant of the tnie state of facts. This evil was only for 
a season ; and instead of disgracing our country, as the Reviewers 
intended, they raised up a host of able vindicators of American mmd 
and literature, which they little expected. Dwight, sensitive upon 
this su])ject, came out in our defence with spirit and effect. And 
Walsh, a name identified with our literature, appealed to the com- 
mon sense of the nations who knew us, and manfully repelled the 
coarse and wicked assaults which had been made upon us. Others, 
too, were engaged to repel these vile slanders. Much was felt, much 
was said and \vi-itten upon the subject at home, and a reaction took 
place abroad ; and in no place was this reaction greater than in Eng- 
land. Our novels, which had not gone farther than a second edition 
here, there passed through several editions with great eclat. Brown, 
whose grave coidd hai'dly be traced by us, was there ranked among 
the finest writers of fiction that any ageor nation had produced. There 
are still a few traces of this maUgnity left, as may be seen in the mi- 
serable libel of De Roos, and a slight disposition to keep it alive, as 
seen in the patronage given him by the British admiralty ; but no 
matter for that, this prejudice is, we pronounce, nearly over and 
gone. The literature of our country is increasing with a most as- 
tonishing rapidity ; and knowledge is pouring upon us in its lesser 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 139 

and greater streams from all parts of the land ; besides weekly and 
monthly magazhies, which are profusely scattered throughout all 
our territories, we have several journals in medicine and law ; and 
six established quarterly reviews, extensively read, and well sup- 
ported. The editors of these quarterly works are pursuing a wise 
course, in repelling the attacks which have been made upon our 
literature, rather by exhibiting fine specimens of thought and taste 
in composition, than by retort and vituperation. 



LECTURE IX. 



'Tis not the chime and flow of words, that move 

In measured file, and metrical array ; 

'Tis not the union of returning sounds, 

Nor all the pleasing artifice of rhyme, 

And quantity, and accent, that can give 

This all-pervading spirit to the ear. 

Or blend it with the movingsof the soul; 

'Tis a mysterious feeling, which combines 

Man with the world around him in a chain 

Woven of flowers, and dipped in sweetness, till 

He taste the high communion of his thoughts, 

With all existences, in earth and heaven. 

That meet him in the charm of grace and power. 

Peucival. 

In order to have a fair view of American poetry, we must go up 
to the springs from whence it flowed. Poetry is natural to man. 
It is a sympathy of the human mind with the invisible world, in 
which the spirit is active in expanding, exalting, and reforming the 
realities it witnesses to something which belongs to upper natures, 
or divine essences. Most things around the primitive poet were 
above his comprehension, for he had but little philosophy to assist 
him in analyzing appearances, and he therefore mingled the known 
with the doubtful, and the real with the imaginary. He was a poet 
of sensibility long before he had learnt to express any of his emo- 
tions, or combinations in language. Wlien he had proceeded so far 
as to give his thoughts utterance in words, he selected the best and 
most favourable he could find as a medium of his thoughts, and 
probably for ages his words rather designated than expressed his 



140 LECTURES ON 

feelings and conceptions. As he grew more and more intelligent, 
he became dissatisfied with his first expressions, and sought new 
ones more comprehensive and more pleasing to his ear ; and verbal 
beauties became as necessary to please himself and his hearers as 
impassioned conceptions ; and measure, cadence, and tone, were 
studied. The passions taught him their languages ; joy had his 
sprightly note, and sorrow her melancholy one ; pity, as she melted 
the mind, softened her words ; and rage and revenge were regardless 
of the harshnessof theirs. Even in early days the consonancy of words 
was sought, and rhyme was added to the other properties of verse ; but 
not much used until after the christian era, though, probably, more 
than is generally believed. Every nation has found the advantages 
of poetry. It enlarged the compass of language ; it selected words 
of greater beauty and energy than were in common use ; it was the 
medium of heroick sentiments and devotional feelings ; it multiplied 
appropriate phrases, and melodious sentences ; and was constantly 
improving the language with synonymes, new combinations, and 
niceties of expression. It would be a dehghtful task to trace the 
progress of the mind, through the history of poetry, from the earliest 
times to the classical ages, and from them down to this of philosophy 
and criticism ; but this would lead us into a wide field, too wide for 
our present purposes ; I shall, therefore, only give a brief account 
of English poetry, to show its rise and progress, in order to have a 
fuller view of our own. Poetry generally exhibits the best state of 
the language of the day in which it was written. One set of poets 
pass off after another, and the succeeding generation is indebted to 
the preceding for much of the excellence it possesses, as the fine and 
rich mould of the earth is formed from the successive productions 
of a prior age. By examining the works of English poets, we can 
trace, very satisfactorily, the several stages of our vernacular tongue. 
It is agreed, on all hands, that the English language had its origin 
in the first century after the Norman conquest, in 1066. In the 
reign of William, and his immediate successors, the poetry of the 
country, which was nothing more than ballads, was in Norman. 
The Saxon legends were preserved in Norman rhyme; but the 
Anglo-Saxon mind was superiour in strength and invention to that 
of the conquerors, and the English vernacular grew up with a few 
Norman features ; but in body and spirit it was Saxon. Tliis fact 
is proved by the earliest English poets. Layamon wrote some- 
where between 1135 and 1180. He was the author of the work 
called " Arthur's Account of his Dream," After the time of Laya- 
mon, there is a poem consisting of a dialogue between an owl and 
a nightingale, disputing for superiority ; this, more distinctly than 
the works of Layamon, makes the change which had taken place 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 141 

in the tongue of the Britons. From 1300, English poetry, and of 
course the whole language, took a definite, positive existence. 

At this period, Robert de Brunne, or Robert Mannyng, wrote a 
metrical chronicle of England, taking his facts from several old his- 
torians. This same writer composed tales in verse ; these have not 
been printed until lately ; but copies of his manuscripts have been 
preserved. The antiquarians say that the English language was 
copious then, and give as a specimen his tale of the " Lady, a Lord's 
Wyfe." This work may be read with tolerable ease by any Eng- 
lish scholar. He deals largely in satire, but is at times full of ten- 
derness, and is not a little romantick. 

In the twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth centuries, the English 
romances constituted the reading of the age. The heroes of King 
Arthur and Charlemagne, Richard Coeur de Lion, Amadis de Gaul, 
and others, had their day, and passed away ; but they were great in 
their time— quite equal to the Waverly novels of the present day ; 
and, like the latter at present, were read by clergy and laity, the 
fair and the wise. It was the fashion to read them ; and fashion is 
irresistible. Romance and poetry are kindred spirits, and are ge- 
nerally fovmd together. In that age, the old ballads were renovated, 
and were in the mouths of every one who had any pretensions to 
taste. These writers aimed at the beau ideal in their compositions, 
and that was suited to the taste of the times. The habit of reading 
these fictions and ballads entered into college-halls by grave per- 
mission from the guardians of literature and religion. 

Chaucer, who is called the father of English poetry, who died in 
1400, was preceded by John Gower, who was celebrated before 
Chaucer was known ; he out hved Chaucer, however, and died old 
and blind, but not poor. He wrote a poem in English, called "Con- 
fessio Amantis." It contains thirty-five thousand lines ; it was 
composed at the request of King Richard II. He had more know- 
ledge of ethicks than of poetry ; and is named by Chaucer, in these 
words : " O ! Moral Gower !" He united the moral philosopher 
with the minstrel ; and he may now be called the Cowper of his 
age. He enlarged and disciplined the intellectual taste of his coun- 
trymen. Gower was the first poet that wrote in the English lan- 
guage, who gave his lovers a good share of learning, as an indis- 
pensable requisite for success in winning the affections of the fair, 
to whom they were devoted. Would that it had been more often 
imitated. On the tales of Gower, Byron and Scott have founded 
their Laras, Corsairs, Brides of Abydos, and Marmions. Who ever 
was, or who ever can be, entirely original 1 

Chaucer was a politician as well as a poet, and was sent an am- 
bassador to the Doge of Genoa, about 1370. He was for many 



143 LECTURES ON 

years a favourite of his king, Edward III.— but by some accident, 
lost his good will, and suffered imprisonment ; but was restored to 
favour on the accession of Henry. He wrote Troilus and Cre- 
seide, and the Canterbury tales. 

The next English poet, was John the Chaplain. He translated 
Boetius, and his language is remarkably good English ; much less 
obsolete at this day than Chaucer's. He hved in the reign of Hen- 
ry IV. 

The next poet, contemporary with John the Chaplain, was 
Thomas Occleve. He considered Chaucer as his father in poetry; 
and was a scholar worthy his master ; he added many beauties of 
language to English poetry. He wrote for Henry IV. and his 
gallant son, Henry V., who employed Occleve as a clerk in the 
office of the privy seal. He had the grant of an annuity, but it 
was badly paid, for Hal had robbed the exchequer for his wars. 
He %vrote a poem on government, for Henry V., wdiich is said to 
contain many fine sentiments and correct principles. 

Lydgate, a Benedictine monk, was another of the poets of the 
days of these Henries. He wrote the "Storie of Thebes," and 
" Siege of Troy." He is the first English poet who complains of 
the criticks, a common grief since his time. He says that Chaucer did 
not care for them ; so much the better for him, and, perhaps, for us j 
for he might not have published so many of his Avorks, if he had 
been as sensitive as Lydgate. About this time, there were several 
very clever poets in Scotland ; Dunbar, and others ; but we are now 
looking only for those familiar to our ancestors. 

A spirit of criticism is a strong symptom of an age of intellectual 
advancement and literary taste. The publick grew fastidious in 
proportion to the frequency of their mental banquets. The bright- 
est parts of the most successful writer make the world less tolerant 
of his defects. 

From Lydgate to Spenser, there were several poets of considera- 
ble celebrity in those times, but not much known to us. Spenser 
was born in 1553, and died in 1599. He was nine years seinor to 
Marlowe, and eleven to Shakspeare. Marlowe was the most popu- 
lar dramatick writer of his age. His plays caught the popular gale 
before Shakspeare's were known. He was learned, and under- 
stood the laws of rhytlim, and of course his measure is smooth and 
finished. He brought more care and beauty into blank verse, than 
any of his predecessors. He was killed, at the age of thirty-one, 
in a brawl. He was a free tliinker, and his death was held by the 
pious of that age, as a judgement for his want of principle ; and for 
many years his works were neglected ; indeed, it could hardly 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 143 

have been otherwise, if there had been no blot on his fame, as 
Shakspeare was so near him. 

When our ancestors came to this coimtry, Shakspeare had been 
known to a few only in the circles of court fashion, and those who 
frequented the theatre ; but the religious part of the community, 
who abhorred plays, and every thing connected with the drama, 
knew but little of this great poet at that time. Tliere were not 
many of Shakspeare's plays then in print. An entire edition of 
them was not published until the year 1623, seven years after the 
death of the author ; and, after this time, it was many years before 
his works were much read. During the puritanical times of the 
Commonwealth, the great dramatist was almost lost sight of; and, 
as strange as it may seem to us of the present day, there were only 
four editions of his works printed in all the seventeenth century. 

I believe that there is hardly a quotation to be found from Shaks- 
peare in any American author, until after the commencement of the 
eighteenth century. Beaumont, and Fletcher, and Ben Jonson, 
were less known, at that time, than some itinerant ballad-singers. 
The prose writings of Milton, from his political character, were 
more extensively circulated in his life time. These, after a while, 
were neglected, and his poetry made its way slowly in the literary 
world. At first it attracted no crowd of imitators, and made no 
visible change in the poetical rules of the age. Milton stood 
alone and aloof above his time, the bard of immortal subjects; and, 
as far as there is perpetuity in language, of immortal fame. 

Dryden flourished at the time of the restoration, and was the har- 
binger of the Augustan age which followed ; Avhen Swift, Addison, 
Pope, Arbuthnot, and others of distinction in the walks of literature, 
shone upon the world. This was truly an age of poetry ; for many 
then, who are scarcely known at this day, wrote good verses. 
Fenton and Broome assisted in the translation of the lUiad, and 
their labours are not much inferiour to Pope's share of it ; and yet 
they held quite a secondary rank in the galaxy of genius which 
graced that period. 

Pope was first knoAvn this side of the Atlantick in April, 1717, as ap- 
pears by a poetical epistle addressed to the author of Windsor Fo- 
rest, from Watertown, in the province of Massachusetts Bay. The 
other works of Pope soon followed, and were much admired in tliis 
country. Most of his productions had passed through numerous 
editions before the death of the poet, which was in 1744. 

Sir Richard Blackmoore, who was a physician to William and 
Mary, and a poet of more loyalty than genius, wrote before Pope ; 
and was, from his stately hexameter, and general strain of piety, 
much admired in this country. He is often quoted by Cotton Ma- 



144 LECTURES ON 

ther and others, with great respect and fondness. But of all the 
poets at the commencement of the eighteenth century, no one was 
more read in this country than Dr. Watts. His fame for piety was 
co-extensive witli Christendom, among the protestants. His poetry 
was found in the hands of all classes in this country. His lyricks 
were well spoken of by the learned, and all joined in thinking his 
psalms and hymns far superiour to the works of all his predecessors, 
in the same line. The American booksellers reprinted his works as 
they appeared, for they were sure of a rapid sale of them. 

The works of Young were read with avidity on their first appear- 
ance, particularly his Night Thoughts. Addison was not so ge- 
nerally read, but he had many admirers. It is amusing for us, at 
this day, to look over the early newspapers in our coimtry, and find 
criticisms and quotations exciting tlie people to read these works of 
rare excellence. Franklin formed his style on Addison, as far as he 
could, being of a very different cast of mind. The youthful Ame- 
rican anticipated the advice of the great English critick, and lite- 
rally read the works of Addison day and nighty to assist him in 
forming a style. The intensity with which some of those works 
were read by the people of only a common school education, is 
almost beyond the belief of those unacquainted with tlie fact. Many 
of the aged people we have seen, could repeat whole books of Milton 
and of Young ; and the works of Watts were in the mouth of every 
man, woman, and child ; and, at the time when his psalms and 
hymns came into general use in the churches, there were but few 
who required a book to join the choir in their devotions. 

Tlie history of American poetry is more curious than is generally 
believed. Many writers have declared that we had no poetry until 
after the commencement of the last century. The people of a prior 
age, however, did not think tliemselves destitute of poetical talent. 
It has been said that the austerity of the manners of the puritans 
was not congenial to tlie muse ; that when they dethroned tlie pope, 
and broke down the altars, and destroyed the groves of papal wor- 
ship, they waged war also with the lovely creations of the classical 
ages. The theory has some plausibility in it at first siglit, but it is 
not true to any great extent ; although the first exhibitions of our 
own poetry were religious and scriptural, and mostly made on 
mournful occasions ; yet the muses were often invoked, and inspira- 
tion looked for from the Nine by our puritan fathers ; and, most cer- 
tainly, Milton had none of these scruples of availing himself of the 
works of heathen authors, for he has plundered every heaven and 
eartli, and mid-way territory, of Pagan creation, to adorn his own 
wonderful and lovely universe. Good poetry, like other possessions 
of knowledge, more often belongs to the age in which it was written 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 145 

than to the genius of the individual poet. There are a great num- 
ber of young ladies in the United States, who can write better poetry 
now, than the most distinguished poet among us could half a cen- 
tury ago. 

I propose to offer you some specimens of poetry written in this 
country, at different periods of our history, that you may compare 
them with each other, and judge for yourselves of their merits; 
interspersing a few remarks of my own upon the writers and their 
productions. 

Our first quotation shall be from the muse of John Smith, who 
was the ^neas of the new world. One would think, from the cha- 
racter of the man, that his poetry would be of the first order. He 
was fitted by nature and education for a poet ; generous, noble, and 
full of genius, he saw every thing in a chivalrous light ; not the 
flitting, irregular, meteorick light of a perturbed mind, Avhich is so 
often found to mistake the agitations of feebleness for the workings 
of the divinity within ; but one which saw things in the blaze of in- 
tellectual day. He had been a philosopher, a hero, and a lover in 
every clime ; and a favourite of the fair in every path of the sun. 
The veiled beauties of Asia, whose hearts melt with romantick ten- 
derness within the harem walls — the refined and accomplished 
women of his owTi country, and the simple, honest, and noble 
daughters of the forest, were enamoured with the blaze of his fame, 
and charmed with the martial elegance of his person. His whole 
life was an epick. From his work, we have culled a few scraps 
of his poetry. He probably wrote much which has not reached us. 

Smith, speaking of his journeying around the country — or rather 
giving an account of it, says, 

" Thus have I walked a wayless way, with uncouth pace, 

Which no Christian man did ever trace ; 

But yet I know this not affects the minde 

Which cares doth heare ; as that which eyes doe finde. 

Mentioning the superstition of the Indians, and their temples and 
tombs, and of their offerings to their god Okee, for fear of him, he 
gives his readers a couplet : 

" Thus, Feare was the first their gods begot : 
Till fear began, their gods were not." 

And, speaking of their devotions, " which the priests begin, while 
the rest follow him ; sometimes he maketh invocations, with broken 
sentences, by starts and strange passions, and, at every pause, 
gives a short groane," 

N 19 



146 LECTURES ON 

"Thus secke they in deepe foolishness©, 
To climbe the height of liappinesse." 

And further, 

' Though god begetting fear, 
Man's bUnded mind did raise 
A hell-god to the ghosts : 
A heaven-god to the hoasts, 
Yea, God unto the seas ; 
Peare did create all these." 

Again; speaking of the mischiefs which sprang from ignorance, 
and the exertion of good men to coiniteract the influence of fanati- 
cism and wickedness, he says, 

" Good men did ne'er their countries ruine bring 
But when evill men shall injuries beginne, 
Not caring to corrupt and violate 
The judgcments'-seat for their own lucre's sake ; 
Then looke that country cannot long have peace, 
Though for the present it have rest and ease." 

In describing the scene in which Pocahontas saved his hfe, the 
emperour, thinking he could do all work, kept him to make hatchets 
and bells, the former for the father's, and the latter for the daugh- 
ter's use ; and the captain, assuming as lively a countenance as pos- 
sible, gives us the following poetical version of his situation : 

" They say he bore a pleasant shew, 
But sure his heart was sad 
For who can pleasant be, and rest, 
That lives in feare and dread : 
And having life suspected, doth 
It still suspected lead." 

Touching, sarcastically, upon Master Wingficld and Captaine 
Archer, who had been too fond of titles and places, and were now 
sent home with Captaine Newport, he offers his readers the follow- 
ing verses : 

" Oh cursed gold, these hunger-starved movers. 
To what misfortunes lead'st thou all these lovers ; 
For all the Cliina wealth, nor Indies' can 
Suffice the minde of an av'ritious man." 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 147 

On Captain Martin, who wished to load his ship with something 
resembling gold dust contrary to Smith's opinion, he writes, 

" But, the God of heaven, he eas'ly can 

Immortalize a mortall man 

With glory and with fame. 

The same God even as eas'ly may 

Afflict a mortall man, I say, 

With sorrow and with shame." 

In speaking of the factions in the colonies, the historian bursts 
out in a fine thought, such as might have furnished a subject for a 
long poem. 

" Till treachery, and faction, and avarice be gone, 

Till envy, and ambition, and backbiting be none, 

Till perjury, and idlenesse, and injury be out, 

And, truly, till that villany, the work of all that rout ; 

Unlesse those vices banished be, whatever forts you have, 

A hundred walls together put will not have power to save." 

The bards who wrote congratulatory epistles, after the custom of 
the day, were numerous. Their lines are preserved in Smith's 
work, and, by tacking them to his name, it is now known that such 
men as R. Brathwait, Anthony Fereby, Ed. Jordan, Richard James, 
M. Hawkins, Richard Meade, Ed. Ingham, and a host of others, 
ever existed or tuned a stave; and yet they probably were very 
considerable men in their time, for we observe the name of old 
Purchas, the historian, among them, whose congratulatory ode is 
the most stiflF, awkward, and wretched piece of affectation, ever 
written in any age, or by any hand. Some of the others have a 
few scintillations of genius about them, but this has none. 

In " Mortion's New-England Memorial" of the pilgrim fathers, 
published in the first half century of their history, may be found 
several acrosticks and elegies of that early period. The following 
lines on Mr. Thos. Hooker, pastor of the church at Hartford, (Conn.) 
were probably written by John Cotton, the first minister of Boston, 
one of the most distinguished men of the Massachusetts Colony. 

" To see three things was holy Aiisf.iri's wish. 
Home in her Flower, Christ Jesus in the Flesh, 
And Paul in Pulpit ; lately, men might see, 
Two first and more in Hooker's ministry. 

Zion, in Beauty, is a fairer sight, 

Than Rome in Flower, with all her glory dight, 



148 LECTURES ON 

Yet Zion's Beauty did most clearly shine 
In Hooker's Rule and Doctrine ; both divine. 

Christ i' the Spirit's more than Christ in Flesh, 
Our souls to quicken, and our states to bless ! 
Yet Christ in spirit, broke forth mightily, 
In faithful Hooker's searching ministry. 

Paul, in the pulpit. Hooker could not reach ; 
Yet did he Christ in spirit, so lively preach, 
That Uving hearers thought he did inherit 
A double portion of Paul's lively spirit. 

Prudent in rule, in argument quick, 
Fervent in prayer, in preaching powerful ; 
That well did learned Ames record bear, 
The like to him he never wont to hear. 

'Twas of Geneva's worthies said, with wonder, 
(Those worthies three) Far ell was wont to thunder ; 
Viret, like rain, on tender grass to shower; 
But Calvin, lively oracles to pour. 

All these in Hooker's spirit did remain, 
A son of thunder, and a shower of rain ; ' 
A pourer forth of Uvely oracles. 
In saving souls, the sum of miracles. 

Now blessed Hooker, thou'rt set on high. 

Above the thankless world, and cloudy sky ; 

Do thou of all thy labour, reap the crown, 

Whilst we, here, reap the seed which thou hast sown !" 

The following is an extract from the pen of Peter Bulkeley, of 
Concord, whose reputation as a latin poet and scholar, we have 
mentioned in another lecture. 

"^ lamentation for the death of that precious and worthy minister 
of Jesus Christ, Mr. John Hooker, Anno Domini, 1647." 
" Come sighs, come sorrows, let's lament this rod. 
Which hath bereaved us of this man of God ; 
A man of God, which came from God to men, 
And now from them, is gone to God agen. 
Bid joy depart : bid merriment begone ; 
Bid friends stand by ; sit mournful and alone. 
But oh ! what sorrow can be to suffice, 
Though heaven and earth were filled with our cries. 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 149 

Let Hartford sigh, and say, ' I've lost a treasure ;' 
Let all New-England mourn at God's displeasure, 
In taking from us one more gracious 
Than is the gold of Ophir precious. 
Sweet was the savour which his grace did give, 
It seasoned all the place where he did live. 
His name did, as an ointment, give it's smell, 
And all bare witness that it savoured well." 



In a few years after writing the elegy of his friend, Hooker, Mr. 
Cotton died in Boston ; 

" Poets themselves must fall like those they sung ; 
" Deaf the praised ear, and mute the tuneful tongue j" 

and was mourned and praised in a funeral elegy, by his friend, John 
Norton, from which we make an extract : 

" And after Winthrop's, Hooker's, Sheppard's hearse, 
Doth Cotton? s death call for a mourning verse J 
Thy will be done ! yet, Lord, who deal'st thus, 
Make this great death expedient for us. 
Imther pulled down the pope, Calvin, the prelate slew ; 
Of Calvin's lapse, chief cures to Cotton due. 
Cotton, whose learning, temper, godliness, 
The German Phoenix, lively did express. 
Melancthon's all — may Luther's word but pass 
Melancthon's all in oiu- great Cotton was ; 
Than him in flesh, scarce dwelt a better one, 
So great's our loss, when such a spirit's gone. 
Whilst he was here, life was more life to me ; 
Now he is not, death hence, less death shall be. 
That comets great men's death do oft forego, 
This present comet doth too sadly shew ; 
This prophet dead, yet must in's doctrine speak, 
This comet t^aith, else must New-England break. 
Whate'er it be, may heaven avert it far. 
That meteors should succeed our greatest star. 
In Boston's orb, Winthrop and Cotton were; 
These lights extinct, dark is our hemisphere. 
In Boston, once, how much shined of our glory, 
We now lament, posterity will story. 
Let Boston live, who had and saw their worth, 
And did them honour, both in hfe and death. 
To him New-England trust in this distress. 
Who will not leave his exiles comfortless. 
N2 



150 LECTURES ON 

The following lines were written upon the same occasion, by B. 

WOODBRIDGE. 



A living, breatliing bible ; tables, where 

Both covenants at large, engraven were. 

Gospel and law in 's heart had each its column^ 

His head, an index to the sacred voluinn. 

His very name a title-page ; and next, 

His life, a commentary on the text. 

O, what a monument of glorious work. 

When, in a new edition, he comes forth, 

Without errata, may we think he'll be, 

In leaves and covers of eternitie ! 

A man of might, at heavenly eloquence 

To fix the ear, and charm the conscience ; 

As if Apollos were revived in him,' 

Or he had learned of a Seraphim ; 

Spake many tongues in one : one voice and sense 

Wrought joy and sorrow, fear and confidence. 



A star, that in our Eastern England rose, 
Thence hurried by the blast of stupid foes, 
Whose foggy darkness and benumbed senses 
Brooked not his dazzhng influences. 
Thus did he move on earth, from east to west ; 
Here he went down, and up to heaven for rest. 
Nor from himself, whilst living, doth he vary, 
His death hath made him an ubiquitary. 
Where is his sepulchre, is hard to tell. 
Who in a thousand sepulchres doth dwell, 
(Their hearts, I mean, whom he hath left behind) 
In them his sacred rehck's now enshrined. 

Governor Bradford, of the old colony, was another of the primi- 
tive poets. His muse was rather timid ; for it does not appear that 
he published many of his productions in rhyme ; but he certainly 
left some of them to his posterity. They were narrative and de- 
scriptive. Some portions of his poetic pains had a most singular 
fate. The manuscript was carried to Boston by some of his de- 
scendants, and there it remained for more than a century ; but, 
when the British forces left Boston, they took it to Halifax ; and, 
some years since, an American gentleman found a portion of 
his " Account of New England in verse," in the shop of a pastry 
cook ; no uncommon highway to oblivion. The relict contained 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 151 

three or four hundred lines, and is well worth preserving, which has 
been done by the Massachusetts Historical Society, in their valuable 
collections, I shall introduce his lamentation on the avarice of tra- 
ders getting the better of their patriotism and prudence. It has much 
of good sense about it, if not of harmonious verse. 

****** 

" But a most desperate mischief here is grown, , 
And a great shame it is it should be known ; 
But why should I conceal so foul a thing 
That quicldy may our hurt and ruin bring ! 
For base covetousncss hath got such a sway, 
As our own safety we ourselves betray ; 
For these fierce natives, they are now so fill'd 
With guns and muskets, and in them so sldll'd, 
As that they may keep the EngUsh well in awe. 
And when they please, give to them the law ; 
And of powder and sliot they have such store, 
As sometimes tliey refuse e'en to buy more ; 
Flints, screw-plates, and moulds for all sorts of shot 
They have, and skill to use them they have got ; 
And mend and new stock their pieces they can 
As well in most things as an EngUshman. 

" Thus, like madmen, we have put them in a way. 
With our own weapons, us to kill and slay ; 
That gain hereof to make they know so well. 
The fowl to lull and us the feathers sell, 
For us to seek for deer, it doth not boot, 
Since now, with guns, themselves at them can shoot. 
The garbage of which we no use did make, 
They have been glad to gather up and take ; 
But now they can themselves fully supply, 
And the EngUsh of them are glad to buy. 
And yet, if that was all, it might be borne, 
Though hereby the English make themselves a scorn." 

It has lately been discovered that Roger Williams, the first settler 
of Providence, was a poet, and a very good one too. There are 
some fine specimens of his poetical powers in his treatise upon the 
Indian language. It has more directness and ease, without the 
quaintness, which was common to the times. 

Tliomas Wilde and John EUiott, the first ministers of Roxbury, 
were considered as among the great poets of their time. They, 
with Mather, made a version of the psalms. The work was wretched 
enough; but Wilde sometimes wi-ote with some spirit, and evea 



153 LECTURES ON 

taste, for that period. Some of his lines on Danforth are quite tole- 
rable, and Cotton Mather has quoted them in his account of Samuel 
Danforth, who was a scholar, and second fellow of Harvard Col- 
lege. A few of them are given from the Magnalia. 

" Mighty in scripture, searching out the sense, 
All the hard things of it, unfolding thence ; 
He lived each truth ; his faith, love, tenderness, 
None can to th' life, as did his life express : 
Our minds wdth gospel his rich lecture fed; 
Luke and his life, at once are finished : 
Our NEW BUILT CHURCH now suffers too by this, 
Larger its windows, but its lights are less." 

The apostle to the Indians, the colleague of "Wilde, had a most 
unconquerable propensity to deal in verse. The burying grounds, in 
Roxbury, bear testimony to this. He furnished epitaphs for all his 
dear departed friends. One of his biographers thinks it is best to 
let his poetry moulder and sink into the ground with the stones on 
which it was engraven. He is fearful, if his epitaphs were disco- 
vered, their uncouth verses might excite a little merriment in the 
present generation ; and, using Cotton Mather's expression, " lest 
the children might play with the beards of their fathers," tohich old 
Mather seems to think a grievous thing. It would have grieved 
him, indeed, could he have foreseen that the beard of reverend age 
would not only be played with, but often plucked and scattered to 
the winds ; not, indeed, irreverently, but in the search of truth ; — 
Mather's opinions on witchcraft, for instance. Elliott is not the only 
instance of a great man making a ludicrous, if not a silly, poet ; but, 
if not the only, he is certainly the most conspicuous example. He 
was deeply imbued with every beautiful sentiment in the classicks. 
The romantick tales of suffering love, and unyielding fortitude, and 
deathless friendship, were familiar to him ; not only these, but he had 
read, in the original, the loves of David and Jonathan, and the sweet 
psalmist's lamentations over the bodies of Saul and his son ; sur- 
passing, when rightly understood, all other elegies. He had heard 
the lamentations of the Indian father, who had received his warrior- 
son a corse from the battle-field ; had listened to the murmurings 
and bursts of grief which filled the wigwam through the long 
watches of the night ; and had, by his eloquence and his prayers, 
soothed the convulsions of nature, and given repose to the parental 
heart. Yet, with every poetick image in his mind, the moment he 
attempted to put a thought into verse, every particle of inspiration 
vanished. I leave to philosophy to analyze such a mind, and to give 
a reason why an attempt at measure should stupify such an Intel- 



AMERICAN LITERATURE- 153 

lect, and why such a passion should be for ever operating on such 
a mind. 

Michael Wigglesworth, who was graduated in 1651, and whose 
name I have mentioned in another lecture, was a poet of great re- 
nown in his day. He published a work, " The Day of Doom, or a 
Poetical Description of the Great and Last Judgement." This had 
reached the fourth edition in 1701 ; and, of course, could not have 
been, as it has sometimes been asserted, an imitation of Young's 
" Last Day," which was written several years afterwards. The poet 
of the old world had read the work of the new, as every thing pub- 
lished in this country soon found its way home. 

About the commencement of the eighteenth century, Thomas 
Makin was known as a poet. He had been a teacher of the first 
school established in Pennsylvania, and wrote a Latin poem in very 
good taste. It was a descriptive, sylvan, and statistical account of 
the settlement of Pennsylvania ; which was translated by Proud, 
the first regular historian of that state, and inserted, together with 
the translation, in his work. In 1717, Francis Knapp, who was 
educated at Oxford, wrote, from Watertown, a poetical address, 
congratulating Pope on the publication of his Windsor Forest. 
This epistle was written in the best style of poetry which had then 
appeared in this country ; but this rather shows the general progress 
of poetry in England tlian in this country, for he had settled here only 
a few years before. In that day the writing of verses in Latin and 
English formed a part of the academical exercises in the English 
universities. They had not then come so fully into the erroneous 
doctrine that a taste for poetry was rather natural than acquired, as 
their successors have affected to believe. The united efforts of na- 
ture and education are required to reach distinction as an orator or 
a poet. It is education as well as nature which makes the Indian 
orator. The most distinguished aboriginal orator I ever heard, an 
Osage, once told me, that he had spent more than half of his life, 
(he was then, he said, fifty years of age,) in communing with the 
great Spirit, in contemplating his works, and in listening to the 
speech of the old and the wise, to make himself an orator. What 
is this but education? 

Among the most extraordinary productions of the early part of 
the last century, are those of Roger Wolcott, of Connecticut. He 
published a volume of poems in 1725, when he was forty-six years 
of age, one or more of them being of considerable length, Mr. 
Bulkley, of Colchester, wrote a preface for the poem. Bulkley was 
a poet himself, as was also the Reverend Timothy Edwards, to whom 
it was dedicated by a poetical address. The writer of a preface, and 
the person to whom a volume was dedicated, were considered as 

20 



154 LECTURES ON 

sponsors for the moral tendency, at least, of the production ; and as 
these friends of the author were distinguished scholars in their day 
and generation, their opinions were, of course, decisive of the merits 
of the work at the time. Wolcott was a self-taught man. He raised 
himself from the humblest walks of life, without a single day's in- 
struction in any school, and became an orator, a poet, a commissary- 
general in the expedition to Canada, in 1740 j a major-general, in 
1745, at Louisburg; and a chief-justice, and chief-magistrate of his 
native state. This did not satisfy him. He must be an author also; 
not only an author, but a poet's wreath was wanting to fill \vp the 
measure of his desire for glory. The following is his dedicatory 
address to Edwards, which shows that he could praise as well 
as conunand and fight, and had no ordinary appetency for poetick 
fame. 



Sib, 



To the Reverend Mr. Timothy Edwards. 

At sight of this, you scarcely will excuse 
My broken numbers should affront your muse, 
Whose single elegance outdoes the Nine, 
And all their off'rings at Apollo's shrine. 

But, sir, they come not to affront, but stand 
Trembling before your awful seat to hear 
From you their sentence that's definitive. 
Whether they shall be killed, or saved alive. 

Yet, where you censure, sir, don't make the verse 
You pinned to Glover's venerable hearse, 
The standard for their trial ; nor enact 
You never will acquit what's less exact. 

Sir, that will never do ; rules so severe 
Would ever leave Apollo's altars bare, 
His priests no service : all must starve together, 
And fair Parnassus' verdant tops must wither. 

Sure that was not the purpose or design 
Of the fair sisters when they did combine 
Themselves in your assistance ; no, their mind 
In that great work, was otherwise designed. 

They, having often to their trouble seen 
Many bold poets laiuich on Hippocrene, 
Men that might a handsome voyage made. 
Had they but kept them to the coasting trade ; 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 155 

But ranging far upon those swelling seas, 
Came home with broken lines and voyages ; 
Grieved at their losses and miscarriages, 
A council met at Hippocrenides ; 

They vote a remedy ; which to effect, 
That their Herculean pillar to erect, 
And, to advise adventurers once for all, 
Wrote ne plus ultra on its pedestal. 

Since which, there's none that dare presume to go 
Beyond that wonder then set up by you ; 
No, nor attain it in their navigation : — 
Tliat sacred work is not for imitation ! 

Conscious of this, you see my muse ne'er soars 
To Hihla}s fop, nor the Aonian shores ; 
Nor doth pretend to raptures that might suit 
Pindarus? muse or great ApollcPs lute. 

Then weigh them candidly, and if that you 
Shall once pronounce a longer life their due ; 
And, for their patron, will yourself engage. 
They may, perhaps, adventure on the stage : 
But if deny'd, they, blushing, back retire 
To bum themselves on their own funeral pyre. 

Windsor, Jan. 4, 17^-3. R. W. 

There are to be found at the present day, many of the old narra- 
tive pieces, ■written something after the manner of the old English 
Ballad j and are considered as veritable scraps of history. It was 
then a fundamental law of the muse, which she has not always re- 
garded, in every age of her communications, to teU nothing but 
the truth. The Indian wars, began, in good earnest, in 1635, 
and continued, with only a few intervals, imtil 1763 ; during which 
time, there were many " bloody massacres" of our people by the 
foe, sometimes by the Indians alone, but oftener by the Indians and 
French together. These fights were full of savage vengeance, and 
what was thought to be retaliatory justice. Instances of great 
courage and suffering often occurred, and afforded many excellent 
opportunities for those disposed to exercise their poetical talents. 
In fact, these instances imposed upon them the necessity of trying 
their hands at narration and elegy. There have been a thousand 
descriptions of single combats which have delighted the reading 
world in every age ; but few have ever attempted to awaken the 
sympathies of mankind by poetical descriptions of such awful exter- 



156 LECTURES ON 

minatlons of the human race, as those of Austeriitz, Jena, Wagram, 
or Waterloo. Hector and Achilles, JEneas and Turnus, Smith and 
his Turks, Boon and his Indians ; combats in which every move- 
ment may be seen at once ; these are such as are attractive to all 
minds. We can sympathize and take a part in such actions ; but 
not so in those tremendous instances of the carnage of the human 
race. These individual cases could easily be brought to bear on 
families and villages, for there was hardly a family that had not 
been called to mourn the loss of some one of its members ; and 
there were but few villages on the frontiers that had escaped savage 
vengeance, during the long period of these bloody conflicts. All 
these events were then commemorated by some village poet, set to 
some mournful measure, and were so preserved, perhaps for many 
years, before they got into print, if they ever did. Some of these 
doleful ditties were, at length, seized upon by the ballad-mongers, 
and exhibited at their windows, in sheets, with two columns, and 
were called " A Pair of Verses." These sheets were often adorned 
with coffins and cross-bones, and sometimes, by way of high at- 
traction, were surmounted with the " effigies of salvages," who were 
exhibited 

" Like fierce barbarians, grinning o'er their prey," 

or, with bended bow, or glittering tomahawk, ready to destroy de- 
crepitude and infancy, when their sturdy opposers had bit the dust. 
They figured, at these shops, with Chemj Chase, Handsome 
Har7y, Captain Kidd, and others of the same class. 

Among the most respectable of these productions, is one which 
has come down to us, certainly to me, anonymously ; an account 
of Captain Lovewell's fight at Pigwacket, on the 8th of May, 1734. 
This battle excited a great deal of sympathy at the time, and the 
event has been oftener commemorated than others, from the fact 
that every minute circumstance of the battle has been more faith- 
fully described than other occurrences in the Indian wars, Symmes, 
a learned divine, of Bradford, which was on the highway taken by 
the relict of Lovewell's men, as they journeyed homeward, collect- 
ed from them the history of the fight, as he entertained them at his 
hospitable mansion, and gave it in a spirited sermon to his parish- 
ioners from the pulpit, which was afterwards published with notes. 
Penhallow, of Portsmouth, who was then vn-iting a history of In- 
dian Wars, took the narrative from some one of the survivors, and 
his statement varies but little from the others ; but, if all these had 
been lost, the ballad I have selected would have given to the pre- 
sent generation a very correct idea of the fight. At that time, 
there were other circumstances, also, which gave this battle much 
celebrity. The character of the men who figured in it was one. 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 157 

Lovewell himself was a man of note. The very act of venturing, 
with only a handful of men, so far in the wilderness, was consider- 
ed lieroick ; and such was the state of feeling, that nothing could be 
considered as presumptuous at that time. All his men were of the 
most virtuous and religious class of society, and were well con- 
nected. Many of them were heads of families, whose loss was severe- 
ly felt in that thinly settled population. Among the number who 
fell, was Mr. Jonathan Frye, a student in divinity, who was Love- 
well's chaplain, and who had joined tliis little band, from some 
affair of the heart. He made himself conspicuous in the fight, 
and, as described, acted with reckless valour, which is often found 
to belong to such a state of mind. The fair one to whom he was 
thought by his friends to be imprudently attached, was not content 
with the praise others were ready to bestow upon the lost object 
of her affections ; and although only fourteen years of age, struck 
her harp, in mournful lays, upon her Philander's fate, and pro- 
duced an elegy which has survived to this day, being lately found 
in an ancient manuscript of a gentleman of the native place of the 
lovers, and lately transmitted to me. If it does not burn with a 
Sapphic blaze, it gives .iiore of the light of history than all the 
odes of the Lesbian dame on her lost Phaon. Miss Susannah 
Rogers calls on the muse to assist her in describing the youthful 
warrior, who afar off was resting without his shroud on the field 
of glory. She says, that his person was comely, his age just twenty- 
one, his genius of the highest excellence, and that he was the only 
son of his parents, beloved by aU who knew him. His valour, his 
piety, his prayers amidst the fight, his wounds all bleeding, pass in 
review before her streaming eyes, and she sees the "howling wil- 
derness" where he fell. She notes the fortitude and resignation 
with which he died, or rather his exhibition of it, when they left him 
to die, for he was not dead, when his companions were under the 
necessity of leaving him to perish. The parental grief is not for- 
gotten, and her own loss is touched upon, with truth and delicacy. 
Thus every age furnishes matter for grief and subjects for the poet 
of a melancholy cast. I will give you the whole of the balled on 
the fight, for it is a fair specimen of that style of writing ; but the 
elegy of the bereaved fiair, is too long for my purpose. 

Of worthy Captain Lovewell, I purpose now to sing, 
How valiantly he served his country and his king ; 
He and his valiant soldiers did range the woods full wide, 
And hardships they endured to quell the Indian's pride. 



158 LECTURES ON 

'Twas nigh unto Pigwacket, on the eighth day of May, 
They spied a rebel Indian, soon after break of day ; 
He on a bank was walking, upon a neck of land, 
Which leads into a pond, as we're made to understand. 

Our men resolved to have him, and travelled two miles round. 
Until they met the Indian, who boldly stood his ground ; 
Then spoke up Captain Lovewell, " Take you good heed," says he, 
" This rogue is to decoy us, I very plainly see. 

" The Indians lie in ambush, in some place nigh at hand, 
In order to surround us, upon this neck of land ; 
Therefore we'll march in order, and each man leave his pack, 
That we may briskly fight them, when they make their attack." 

They came unto the Indian, who did them thus defy. 
As soon as they came nigh him, two guns he did let fly, 
Which wounded Captain Lovewell, and likewise one man more, 
But when this rogue was running, they laid him in his gore. 

When they had scalped the Indian, they went back to the spot 
Where they had laid their packs down, but there they found them not ; 
For the Indians having spy'd them, when they them down did lay. 
Did seize them for their plunder, and carry them away. 

These rebels lay in ambush, this very place hard by, 

So that an English soldier did one of them espy, 

And cried out, "here's an Indian," with that they started out, 

As fiercely as old hons, and hideously did shout. 

With that our valiant English, all gave a loud huzza, 
To shew the rebel Indians they feared them not a straw ; 
So now the fight began, and as fiercely as could be, 
The Indians ran up to them, but soon were forced to flee. 

Then spoke up Captain Lovewell, when first the fight began, 
" Fight on, my valiant heroes ! you see they fall like rain." 
For as we are informed, the Indians were so thick, 
A man could scarcely fire a gun and not some of them hit. 

Then did the rebels try their best, our soldiers to surround, 

But they could not accomplish it, because there was a pond 

To which our men retreated, and covered all the rear, 

The rogues were forced to flee them, although they skulked for fear. 

Two logs there were behind them, that close together lay, 
Without being discovered, they could not get away j 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 159 

Therefore our valiant English, they travell'd in a row, 
And at a handsome distance, as they were wont to go. 

'Twas ten o'clock in the morning, when first the fight began, 
And fiercely did continue until the setting sun ; 
Excepting that the Indians, some hours before 'twas night, 
Drew off into the bushes, and ceased awhile to fight. 

But soon again returned, in fierce and furious mood, 
Shouting as in the morning, but yet not half so loud ; 
For as we are informed, so thick and fast they fell, 
Scarce twenty of their number at night could get home well. 

And our valiant English, till midnight there did stay, 

To see whether the rebels would have another fray ; 

But they no more retvu-ning, they made off towards their home, 

And brought away their wounded, as far as they could come. 

Mather Byles was born in Boston in 1706. He was settled as a 
clergyman in the south end of his native town, was distinguished for 
his wit and talents, and was a poet of no ordinary character. He 
wrote with taste, but did not write much. He was one of the 
correspondents of Dr. Watts ; and also one of the first in America, 
to induce his parishioners to introduce the Psalms and Hymns of 
that pious divine and respectable poet, who laboured in almost 
every branch of literature, for every age, from lisping infancy to 
full grown philosophers. Contemporary with Byles, was Joseph 
Green, born in the same year, and graduated in 1726. He was a 
wit, a classical scholar, and a poet. He was also an intelligent 
merchant, of great integrity, and soon became a man of fortune. 
He annoyed the politicians of the time Avith satire. He put Bel- 
cher's speeches into rhyme, and Shirley did not escape his lash. 
Among his poetical pieces, was an " Elegy on Mr. Old Tenor," and 
a satire upon a procession of freemasons, which were much ad- 
mired at the time, from the happy delineations they contained. 
But masonry in that quarter has changed its character since that 
time. Green cared nothing for immortality as a wit or poet. To 
enjoy the hour of recreation was the extent of his wishes ; and, 
stranger still, though often solicited to take offices of pohtical ho- 
nour, he laughed at them also. He was appointed a Counsellor by 
mandamus, and so soon as he received the summons, sent his 
resignation to Gov. Gage. And, before he filed his summons in 
mercantile exactness, as it was his habit to do with every commu- 
nication he received, he wrote, as a gentleman well acquainted 
with him informed me, a short ode on the back of the document, 



160 LECTURES ON 

that was an elegant satire upon the times, and which, like a twor 
edged sword, cut both ways. He belonged to a club of wits, who 
satirized eveiy one they chose to make amusement of; and, fre- 
quently, threw a squib at each other. Some of Green's com- 
panions made this epitaph on him. 

" Siste, viator ; here lies one, 

Whose life was whim, whose soul was pun ; 

And, if you go t»o near his hearse, 

He'll joke yovi, both in prose and verse." 

1743. 

John Osbom was bom in the year 1713, and was graduated in 
1735. He studied divinity, but it was supposed he found himself 
not sufficiently orthodox to be popular in Massachussetts, at that 
time. He read medicine, was of a sickly constitution, and died at 
about forty years of age. He was a poet of considerable talent. 
He wrote, about the time he left college, a beautiful elegy on the 
death of a yoimg sister. It is tender and philosophical. He wrote 
also a whaling song, which has been sung a thousand times in the 
North and South Pacific, and in the Norwegian Seas. It is a good 
description of the manly sport of hunting the monarch of the 
mighty deep. 

Thomas Godfrey, who died about the year 1761, was the son of 
Thomas Godfrey, the mathematician, mentioned by Franklin as 
the inventor of the Quadrant now so much in use, called Hadley's 
Quadrant ; Hadley having had the honour of giving a name to the 
instrument which he stole from Godfrey, and, for a while, the cre- 
dit of the invention also. The elder Godfrey belonged to a society 
in Philadelphia, with Dr. Franklin and other men of inquiring 
minds ; the son was for a time an apprentice to a watchmaker, but 
preferring letters to the mechanick arts, he left the business of a 
watchmaker, and obtained a subaltern's commission in the Penn- 
sylvania forces raised in 1758 to take Fort Duquesne, three years 
after Braddock's defeat. He continued in the army until the troops 
were disbanded, and then he commenced business as a Commission 
Merchant in North Carolina, where he died, by over exertion in the 
extremely hot weather of that climate. He was highly esteemed, 
and his premature deatli, at the age of twenty-seven, was deeply 
lamented. He had devoted much of his time to the muses, and 
had, from time to time, thrown off many fugitive pieces, which 
were gathered up by his friend Mr. Evans, and published in the 
year 1763, under the title of juvenile poems, with a dramatick 
work, called, " The Prince of Parthia, a Tragedy." This is, pro- 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 161 

bably, the first tragedy ever written in this country. Many a 
bloody one had, however, been enacted from 1755 to 1761, as well 
as before that time, from Fort Duquesne to the plains of Abraham. 
The following extract from an ode of his, on friendship, is smooth, 
easy verse, and is not wanting in spirit. If the writer of such lines 
had lived, and continued his devotion to the muses, in the maturity 
of his judgement, we should have had something of note to show 
from his pen. What he has left is sufficient to give him a rank 
among the poets of that day. In his pieces, there is abundant evi- 
dence that he was acquainted with Dryden and Pope, and, probably, 
with other writers of the Augustan age of Queen Anne. All his 
lines are pure in their morahty, and delicate in their sentiment ; and 
this is no small matter in a poet ; for, in that age, after the writings of 
Swift were diffused, we had not a few poets, of whom it might be 
said that " the muses were fond to inspire, but ashamed to avow." 

A PINDARICK ODE ON FRIENDSHIP. 

By Thomas Godfrey. 

Friendship ! all hail ! thou dearest tie 

We mortals here below can claim, 

To blend our else unhappy lives with joy ; 

My breast inspire, 

With thy true genuine fire, 

While to thy sacred name, 

I strike the golden lyre. 
Clothed in pure empyrean light, 
For vulgar eyes thou shin'st too bright : 

For while they gaze. 

Thy dazzling rays 
Dim their too feeble light. 
But souls uncloyed with sensual toys, 
Souls who seek true mental joys, 
May, phoenix-like, sublimely soar, 
May all thy heaveidy charms explore. 
And wanton m the glorious blaze, 

O, G*** ! if now no charming maid 
Waits thy pencil's powerful aid, 
That when her channs shall fade away, 
And her pleasing form decay — 
That when her eyes no more shall roll, 
Or heaving sighs betray her soul — 

Still by thy art. 

The stubborn heart 
To melt, and into love betray— 
2 21 



162 LECTURES ON 

Attend ! I sing that power divine. 
Whose heavenly influence sways such souls as thine ; 
Souls by virtue made the same, 
Friendship's powerfid ties may claim; 

And happy they, 

Without allay, 
Blest in the generous flame. 

Dr. Franklin, whose literary and scientifick character we have 
mentioned elsewhere, would have no small claim to the reputation 
of a poet, had not his fame as a philosopher, politician, and prose 
writer, thrown, as it were, into the shade, his occasional offering to 
the muses. If there is no rhapsody in his inspirations, there is a 
sweet and beautiful flow of good sense and delicacy of feeling. His 
love of Addison is discovered in his poetry as well as in his prose. 
The deep solemnity of Addison was not in the nature and disposi- 
tion of Frankhn ; nor had the latter a tithe of the classical informa- 
tion of the former; but a deeper knowledge of human nature, and 
of the business of life, certainly belonged to Franklin. In the maze 
of skepticism, Franklin lost, or never cherished, that solemn cast 
of thought which one so truly pious as Addison always has, and 
constantly infuses into all he says or writes. 

Benjamin Pratt was a scholar who was never fostered into no- 
tice, or fed by the flattery of the popular voice. He made his way 
by energy of mind and firmness of purpose. He was graduated at 
Harvard, in 1737. He was a first rate lawyer, and most admirable 
logician. His poetry, written while he was engaged in full practice, 
shows that he had a fine taste for this elegant accomplishment ; for 
in his compositions are united depth of reasoning, force of illus- 
tration, and command of language, with rich imaginings. He died 
Chief Justice of New York, much admired for the powers of his 
understanding, and the extent of his information. His communion 
with the muses was by stealth ; another proof of the sacrifice even a 
great man is under the necessity of making to public sentiment. 
The poetry on which his fame, as a writer of verse, is built, was 
found among his papers after his death, and few ever knew that he 
made these private devotions to the art. His poems on several 
subjects, are full of point and elegance, and have received the com- 
mendations of several judicious criticks. 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 163 



LECTURE X. 



And none are more exquisitely awake 

To nature's loveliness, than those who feel 

The inspiration of the muse — who take 

Prom her the glowing thoughts, that, as they steal 

Around the soul entranced, a goddess make 

Of nature, to whose shrine of beauty kneel. 

The fond enthusiast, adoring all 

Within her, we may dread, or lovely call. 

Nach. 

The events preceding and during the revolution, called out all the 
poetical talent of our country. I mean those talents which consist 
in catching at circumstances as they arise, and turning them to ad- 
vantage. Songs, epitaphs by anticipation, and satire in every form, 
came flying all abroad, to cut up the tory, and warm up the patriot- 
Every nation, civilized or barbarous, has used song as an instru- 
ment of exciting a love of country, and urging the most popular 
motives for repelling a foe, and securing that fame which belongs 
to the brave. Many of these minor American poets have been 
swept into obscurity by time ; and it is, perhaps, too late to rescue 
their names from oblivion ; but there are others of a higher order, 
whose names will be preserved by the historian of our literature, as 
having filled their space in the revolution. Among others, Francis 
Hopkinson, who was born in 1738, was in the full maturity of his 
intellectual powers when the revolution began, and he brought all 
of them in aid of the great cause. He was a member of congress 
from New- Jersey in 1776, and signed that memorable instrument, 
the Declaration of Independence. He was, afterwards, a judge of 
admiralty in Pennsylvania. HopkLason was born for a satirist, and 
nature had left the most unequivocal marks of her mtention in his 
physiognomy. The quick, twinkling eye, the small animated fea- 
tures, the thin lips and sharp nose, answered the rules of Lavater, 
for one " who sees quickly, and combines rapidly, and in such a 
manner as to produce novel and pleasing effects.^'' His " Battle 
of the Kegs" was much admired for its wit ; and even Sir William 
Howe, who was ridiculed in it, was said to have laughed heartily 
when it was read to him. Long after the revolutionary conflict 



164 LECTURES ON 

was over, he brought his talent to bear occasionally upon the ab- 
surdities which are, and always will be, found in every society. 
Sometimes he turned it upon the follies of a city corporation, and 
sometimes upon the press itself; and so just, so keen, so powerful, 
was his satire upon the press, which was then indulging in extreme 
licentiousness, that, it is said, there was not for months after the 
publication of some of his satires, a scandalous article to be found 
in the columns of the newspapers of the day. Juvenal and Pope 
could not boast of having produced such an effect, with all their 
fame. It is much easier to "wAij> a rascal naked round the 
world,''^ than to awe the conductors of the press, to keep within 
the pale of decorum, at any time. Hopkinson's poetical effusions 
were, after his death, collected and published, in three volumes, 
8vo. in 1792. 

Lemuel Hopkins, a Connecticut poet, whose name and writings, 
from the similarity of name, are often confused with those of Fran- 
cis Hopkinson, was several years junior to his brother poet of Penn- 
sylvania. He was a physician, and commenced the practice of his 
profession in 1776. He was distinguished in his profession, and 
equally so for his dress and manners. He wrote several occasional 
pieces, which were much admired, and projected the Anarchiad, a 
work which was probably the joint production of some of the best 
poets of the day. The Anarchiad exhibits a thorough knowledge 
of events, a deep insight into the moving principles of the policy of 
the statesmen of that period, and an intimate acquaintance with 
the powers, caprices, and dispositions of the leaders in every party 
feud. In reading this work, at the present day, we admire the ge- 
nius of the writers, although many of the points are lost, from our 
having suffered the minute history of the times when it was written 
to escape from our memories, if they were ever treasured there. 

At the same time, when the afore-mentioned poets, Hopkinson 
and Hopkins, were throwing their shafts from vigorous bows, and 
annoying their enemies — (perhaps, earlier than either,) Trumbull 
appeared — himself a host in this warfare. His M'Fingal, although 
modelled on Hudibras, is, in many things, superiour to it. The 
Tories were not to be met by argument ; for they had many argu- 
ments drawn from their fears of the success of the American arms, 
which could not be readily answered ; for no one could precisely 
foretell the issue of the conflict. They were to be conquered by 
ridicule ; no other power could reach them. Wit alone drove them 
from the field ; and the Tories felt a greater hatred to the poet who 
had made them ridiculous, than to the soldier who destroyed their 
ranks by hundreds. This poem was decried in England, for many 
years, but at last acknowledged to belong to the first order of sati- 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 165 

rical poems. The foreign foe did not claim all the poet's attention ; 
for he spared some of his leisure hours to attack a domestick foe — 
one much to be dreaded in every age — ignorance. " The Progress 
of Duhiess,^^ did mucli to prevent the multiplication of those cha- 
racters, sometimes found at the present day, in whose composition 
dulness is shielded by gravity of face, and ignorance covered by 
the affectation of piety. The author of M'Fingal is still living, and 
could now. perhaps, tell us what share the different authors took in 
the Anarchiad. It is to be hoped that he will do it. Such an inti- 
mation would gratify the curious, and injure no one. His co-adju- 
tors in this work are gone, and the parties lashed have passed 
away ; no harm could, therefore, come from such a disclosure. 

Humphreys, although he wrote less than many others, has no 
small claims to the character of a poet. His were mostly hasty 
pieces written in the hurry of a camp ; but constantly abound in 
energy and patriotism, and must have warmed the soldiers' heart 
at the time. Some lines are truly poetick, and will hold a perma- 
nent place in the poetry of our country. It has certainly been 
asserted, and never denied, that he was one of the writers of the 
Anarchiad, and this is enough to give him a rank among "the 
tuneful brotherhood.^' In the latter part of his life, his muse, accus- 
tomed to camps, closed her wings and turned shepherdess : but on 
an oaten reed she could not play ; the trumpet was her instrument. 
He was, at all times, an enthusiast in the glory and fame of his 
country, and poured out his prophesies profusely ; and of him it 
must be said too, that he laboured to fulfil them. 

Alongside of Trumbull, Humphreys, and Barlow, walked one of 
a graver mien. His poetry was altogether devoted to learning and 
piety ; and every song, hymn, or occasional verse, is full of pathos 
and religious dignity. The epick on which he rested his fame Avas 
not his happiest effort. He was constituted for epick grandeur, but 
his piety led him to seize a difficult subject for the trial of his skiU. 
There was no novelty in the vengeance of heaven pouring its chas- 
tisements upon a wicked nation. Who can stand before Omnipo- 
tence ! Wlio can question the doings of Israel's God ! Of course 
there was no display of machinery ; nothing which shows the mas- 
ter-hand of the poet in the invention of his fable ; for here was no 
fable. We must see the mortal in every great work, to be struck 
with admiration. The lofty dome of St. Peters, the work of man, 
fills the mind of the beholder with more wonder, than the contem- 
plation of this self-poised earth, wheeling its course, in the "void im- 
mense." The works of man are questioned, examined, and criticised, 
and often remodelled in the mind of the examiner ; and his admira- 
tion settles at last on the great skill of the builder of an epick, or a 



166 LECTURES ON 

temple. But neither philosophy nor religion thinks to set bounds 
to the power of God, or feels more wonder at one exercise of it than 
at another. 

Dwight's " Conquest of Canaan," notwithstanding the faults inhe- 
rent in the subject, has not yet had justice done to it ; and one reason 
for this delay was the superiority of his eloquence to his poetry. 
No ear will hear that again. Mute is the once tuneful tongue ; but 
his verse will be more read than it has been, and the more it is read, 
the higher will be his fame as a poet. Although his creed was 
tinged with the severe philosophy of the great Reformer, yet such 
was the glowing benevolence of his own heart, that none of it was 
seen in his intercourse with men. He was happy in the affections 
of the wise, and the good, in the rising as Well as in the risen gene- 
ration, and happier stiU in the affections of his family. His poetry 
and his eloquence were pure streams of heart and mind, refreshing 
to all they reached, both young and old. One of the sweetest mor- 
sels of Dwight's poetry was written while he kept an academy for 
young ladies, to be sung at an examination, previous to a spring va- 
cation of his seminary. His poem, " Greenfield Hill," is much more 
often read and quoted than the " Conquest of Canaan," and, by many, 
thought to be a superiour composition. 

The following is the hymn to which we referred. 



Hail ! child of light ! returning spring, 
Fair image, foretaste sweet of Heaven, 
In thee our hearts thy Maker sing, 
By whose blest bounty thou wast given. 

From thee, the wintry glooms retire. 
The skies their purest beams display ; 
And winds, and showers, and suns conspire 
To clothe the world with life and May. 

Hail ! knowledge, hail, — the moral Spring 
That wakes the verdure of the mind ; 
To man thy ways indulgent bring 
And fragrant flowers and fruits refined. 

Thy progress with the morn began, 
Before thee every region smiled ; 
The savage brightened into man. 
And gardens blossomed in the wild. 

All hail ! fair Virtue ! noblest good ; 
The bliss and beauty of the skies, 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 167 

By whom to yonder blest abode 
The humble and the faithful rise. 

While here, fair Learning's smiles begin, 
And Spring leads on the genial year ; 
From realms of life and peace divine, 
Descend ; and bloom and flourish here. 

And O, thou fount of good supreme. 
The Sun that lights eternal spring, 
At once of knowledge source and theme ; 
Thee, first and last, our voices sing ! 

Virtue, in every charm arrayed, 
For this dark world thy sufferings won ; 
Those charms thy matclJess life displayed. 
When here, the incarnate splendour shone. 

As dews refresh, as suns revive, 
When clear and cloudless shines the day, 
Command our rising race to live. 
And win them from the world away. 

Joel Barlow was early distinguished for talents and acquirements 
of the highest order. He entered the American army as a chaplain, 
to assist, by every means in his power, the great cause of his coun- 
try. A chaplain was a very considerable personage in the army at 
that time, and did much to animate his fellow-citizens to persevere 
in the struggle. Many of the soldiers of the American army, in 
that time, were men of capacity and virtue, worthy to command 
men in any good cause, and, therefore, could more justly appreciate 
the merits of such men as Barlow. On leaving the army, he became 
a scholar by profession ; and is, perhaps, the only man in the history 
of our coimtry, who ever brought his learning to a good political 
market. Poets have been made ambassadors, and peers, and secre- 
taries, in other countries ; but few indeed of our country have found 
emolument or office by their reputation for learning. It will not 
always be so. It has been said by Barlow's reviewers, that his style 
lost something of its purity by his enthusiastick attachment to the 
literature of France, in the boisterous times of her revolution ; Avhen 
phrenzy made havock of taste as well as of aristocracy. If this 
charge was, in some degree, correct, and perhaps it cannot be fully 
denied, it did not reach any considerable extent. A few words or 
phrases may, imquestionably, be found, which smack of that period, 
but not many. His lines are, in general, vigorous, yet smooth, and 
full of dignity and moral grandeur. His prose writing had fewer 



168 LECTURES ON 

faiilts of style than his poetry. There is great neatness in some 
articles from his pen. The preface to the Columbiad is an admira- 
bly condensed, historical account of Columbus and his discoveries. 
Its perspicuity and beauty of language make it a model for succinct 
narratives of the kind. The Columbiad is, at present, the first Ame- 
rican poem extant. There may be defects of style and versification 
in it ; and some of the complaints made by the Abbe Gregoire may 
be true, " that Barlow was bigoted against superstition." The work 
was first published at the close of the American war, and was then 
called The Vision of Columbus. It was dedicated to Louis XVI., 
with some fine remarks upon that monarch's virtues. The Vision 
was, after the death of Louis, expanded, and called the Columbiad. 
It would have been quite as well for Barlow's fame, if this had never 
been done. The Columbiad is, indeed, a great poem ; but it does 
not contain the whole light of Barlow's mind, which Avas too 
strongly tinctured with politicks to be kept constantly within the 
strict laws of measure, or on the classical top of Pindus ; for he 
would be a truant, now and then, from the sacred gropes, to sacri- 
fice to the goddess of liberty, whether she appeared as a celestial 
visitant on his own shores, or as a Parisian Elegante, flaimting in 
meretricious robes. At such a time, Apollo and the nine would call 
after him in vain ; and their promise to bless his offering with a 
double portion of inspiration were equally disregarded. He was 
above envy. Mark how sweetly he praises his rivals : 

" To equal fame ascends thy tuneful throng, 
The boast of genius, and the pride of song ; 
Warm'd with the scenes that grace their various clime, 
Their lays shall triumph o'er the lapse of time. 
With keen-eyed glance, thro' nature's walks to pierce, 
With all the powers and every charm of verse, 
Each science opening in his ample mind, 
His fancy glowing and his taste refined, 
See Trumbull lead the train. His skilful hand 
Huris the keen darts of satire thro' the land. 
Pride, knavery, dulness, feel his mortal stings, 
And listening virtue triumphs while he sings. 
Proud Albion's sons, victorious now no more, 
In guilt retiring from the wasted shore, 
Strive their curst cruelties to hide in vain ; 
The world shall learn them firom his deathless strain." 



•' On glory's wing to raise the ravisli'd soul, 
Beyond the bounds of eartJi's benighted pole, 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 189 

For daring Ehright the epick muse sublime 
Hails her new empire in the western clime. 
Fired by the themes by seers seraphick sung, 
Heaven in his eye, and rapture on his tongue, 
His voice di\ine revives the promised land, 
The heaven-taught leader, and the chosen band. 
In Hanniel's fate proud faction finds her doom ; 
Ai's midnight flames hght nations to their tomb ; 
In visions bright, supernal joys are given ; 
And all the dread futurities of Heaven." 

Another of that class of poets whose works were of great utility 
in the revolution, was William Livingston, LL. D., governor of 
New- Jersey. He held that office after Governor Franklin was de- 
posed and sent off for adhering to the royal cause. Livingston was 
a scholar and a wit. He was of the Addisonian school in style, but 
evinced in his writing a thorough acquaintance with all the first 
authors of his day. He was a satirist of the keenest lash, and quick- 
est hand, and never spared the enemies of his country. His prose 
writings were numerous and valuable ; but it is only as a poet we 
are now considering his claims to distinction. He published a poem 
called " Philosophical Solitude ;" which, although reposing in some 
few large libraries unknown to most persons, is full of thought and 
point, and not destitute of elegance. This work is destined to re- 
suscitation ; and when the long neglected works of our country shall 
take their proper places, the productions of Livingston will be found 
of no ordinary grade. 

Philip Freneau, of Pennsylvania, and some time of New-Jersey, 
was a poet of the revolution. A great number of his productions 
evince taste and talent, and were well adapted to the times. Every 
old continental had some of his verses at his tongue's end ; and 
often animated himself and his companions over his bowl, when he 
had the good fortune to find one that was flowing. Freneau was 
not confined altogether to poetry of this character. He wrote some 
fine patriotick pieces of considerable extent, and others of a miscel- 
laneous nature. Soon after the war, he published a volume of his 
poems on coarse paper and with bad type. Since that time, a hand- 
some and enlarged edition has been given to the publick. Freneau's 
pieces are very unequal. Some of them were probably thrown off 
in haste, and others polished with care. The " Address of Colum- 
bus to Ferdinand," is a very happy effort, and his Indian death-song 
has been much admired. The latter effort we will give entire. 

" The sun sets in night ; and the stars shun the day ; 
But glory remains, when their Ughts fade away. 
P 22 



no LECTURES ON 

Bcfrin, yc tormentors ; your tlinuitrt arc in vain : 
For the boh of Alknotnock can novfr complain. 

Remember the woods, where in ambush ho li»y, 

Anil the KC4tl[m which ho Iwre from your nation away. 

Why ilo ye delay T 'till I Hhrink from my pain? 

Know, the son of Alknomock can never complain. 

Rcmeml)er tlio arrows he shot from hiw Ik)w : 
Rememlwr your chiefs by Wh hatclwt laid low. 
The flame rifics hij^h — You exult in my pain: 
But the son of Alknomock will never complain. 

I go to the land, wiierc my father is gone 

His ghost slmll exult in the fame of liis son. 

Death comes like a fri<'nd — lit; n^licvcs me from pain : 

And thy hod, O Alknomock, has scorned to complain." 

Mrs. Warren is well known to the prcsoiit goncration by luT 
history of the American Revolution ; but perhajis it is not so well 
known that she was distinguished for her jxHitical talents. She 
was of patriot blood, iind an inflexible^ rei)ubliean. If her fume 
required heraldriek lioiioius, and connexion with genius, it would 
be sufficient to say that she, was sister to James Otis, the great 
patriot of the revolution. This lady not only wrote many things 
in prose and verse for the encouragenHMit of the work of op[)osi- 
tion to arbitrary measures, but slie found hnsure to write two tra- 
gedies in five acts each, and of consi(l(;rable hnigth. Tiie first was 
"The Sack of Rome," and the other, " 'I'he Ladies of Castile." 
Tliese were written during the war, and p>d)lish(;d before tliecloseof 
it, as early as 1778. These productions abound in heroick sentiments, 
and the verse, in many instances, is smooth and strong, without those 
extravagant things which injure many of the niod(;rn tragedies; 
for instance, IJertrani and (^ain ; nor is it pretended that they have 
as many lofty conceiitions and felicitous sentim(!nts as the modern 
productions ; but tlu'y are very ch^ver, all things considered, and 
ought, and will hv. i)reserved, in tlu; amials of our poetry. These, 
with other poems, were eolle<^ted in the life time of Mrs. Warren, 
and i)ublishcd in a vobnne, at Boston. This hidy also wrote poli- 
tical speeches for sonu; of the memixTS of the Convention, called 
for adopting the Federal Constitution, in 17HH; and tlu; s])eaker was 
detected in his borrowc-d plumage by the elegance of the style of 
his oration, and from his ignorance of some of her classical allu- 
sions. She was well acquainted with all the great men of her 
time, and corresponded with many of the most intelligent of them. 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 171 

She lived to see the country prosperous and liappy ; and died, in a 
good old age, surrounded by several gcjnerations of her descen- 
dants. If not a poetical, certainly an enviable exit. 

Thomas Dawes, jr. was a native of Boston, and was graduated 
at Harvard College in 1777, soon after the revolutionary conflict 
began. While in college, he devotcid some of his leisure hours to 
poetry, for which he had a strong pro|)(!nsity, but which he then 
felt he must restrain, if not sacrifice, to tlie profession for which 
he was intended; not that he thought a r(!fined taste inimical to 
the study of the law, or that a man could not make a good special 
pleader, if he now and then culled a flower from I'aruassus ; but 
the world was then in a hurry of industry, and thought that he 
could not be a business-man, who stopptjd to polish a period or 
make a couplet. He was in full practice when quite young, and 
had powerful patronage. Early in life he was made a Judge of 
the Supreme Judicial Court, and having resigned this office, he 
was appointed Judge of Probate ; to the duty of which office that 
of Judge of the Municipal Court was, after a while, added. Once 
in a while, through life, he stole an hovir or two from business or 
sleep to make an occasional ode or hymn ; and wlu!n the good peo- 
ple '>f Boston were attempting to commemorate some fa<;t in the 
history of the war, on their monuments on Beacon hill, or at the 
stump of the old tree of Liberty, he was n^gulariy called ujjon to 
aid the work by his poetical and classical tast(! ; and those fine inscrip- 
tions, which were often read and admired, were from his pen. This 
medal-style of writing, requires taste, judgement, and imagination ; 
for it must unite in the shortest possible compass, point, fact, dignity 
and ease. These monuments are ra/.ed to the grotmd : they fell 
before the spirit of enterprise and speculation ; but the inscriptions 
are preserved as felicitous touches of the patriotism and taste of 
that period. 

The singular and sudden death of that great patriot, James Otis, 
who had lived, for years, " a mighty mind o'erthrown," called for 
the poetick talents of Judge Dawes : and he commemorated tin; vir- 
tues and mental energies of the deceased in an ode, wortliy of the 
subject and of the writer. A few lines of it we shall extract, for 
the purpose of showing the author's tact and discrimination. 

" Blest with a native strength ami fire of thought, 
With Greek and Roman Jearninfr, richly fraught, 
Up to the fountain head he pushed his view, 
And from first principles his maxims drew. 
'Spite of the times, this truth he hlazed abroad, 
The people's safety is the law of God." 



172 LECTURES ON 

The last effort of his muse, was a hymn to be sung at the dedi- 
cation of a church in Baltimore. It certainly ranks high in this 
order of compositions. 

Dr. Josiah Brown Ladd, of Charleston, South Carolina, who 
died on the second of November, 1786, in the thirty-second year of 
his age, was a poet of the first class in our country. He was born 
at Little Campton, in Rhode Island. He delivered an oration on 
the fourth of July, 1785, which is, in part, preserved by Niles, in 
his " Principles and acts of the Revolution." It is a work of taste 
and imagination, full of pathos and instruction. In the American 
Museum, published in Philadelphia, in 1787, there are to be found 
several specimens of his poetry, which are truly excellent. His 
<' Address to the Sun," a " Runick Ode," as he calls it, is full of genius 
and skill. He had command of all the laws of rhythm, and sported 
with his muse in every measure of verse. He passes from grave to 
gay, with great facility; from the pun, the jest, or the conundrum, 
to the solemn appeal of Almasi, the wife of Almaz Ali Cawn, to 
Warren Hastings, governor general of India; in which appeal, 
rage, narrative, vengeance, and power, reign in turns, with intellec- 
tual light and vigour. As some persons may not have paid particu- 
lar attention to Dr. Ladd's poetry, I will give them his " Ode to the 
Sun," not as his best production, but as one which shows how much 
he had, not only of the inspiration of the poet, but also of the know- 
ledge and practice of the art of poetry. 

A RUNICK ODE, 
By Dr. Ladd. 

Radiant orb, revolving round, 
Where, O whither ait thou bound 1 
Thou, that like some shining shield, 
Blazing o'er the bloody field, 
Dost on high majestick move, 
Pouring sunshine all above. 

Where, O whither art thou bound, 
Rolling now in glory round 1 
Red and fiery round thy brow, 
Lo ! the western waters glow ; 
And behind, across the vales, 
Ev'ry length' ning shadow trails. 

Where, O whither art thou bound, 
Deep in distant surges drowned ? 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 173 

Evening marches, wrapt in clouds, 
And each prospect gaily shrouds ; 
While on yonder sea-beat shores, 
Blacker night in silence pours. 

Hark ! hear the rushing blast. 
What shrieks it mutters round ! 
It bellows o'er the dreary waste, 
And death is in the sound. 

See, see what horrid forms, 
Like thin gray mists, appear ; 
They ride at midnight on the storms, 
With horrour in the rear. 

Hark ! hear the feeble shriek. 

How shrill the echoes rise ! 

Ye grim-gray spirits speak, O, speak — 

Why — why those dying cries? 

What — do you vanish so 1 

Are ye already gone 1 

Where, grim-gray shadows, do ye go, 

To pour the plaintive moan 7 

Hushed are the winds — in their dark silent house 
The stormy breezes sleep : — save one soft gale 
That wliistles through the grass, and seems to say. 
Hence, bard of sorrow — plaintive poet, hence ! 

I go, sweet gale — on yon lone echoing shores. 
Where, 'midst the foam, sharp-pointed rocks emerge, 
To hear the stormy cataract that roars, 
Tremendous ! answered by the bellowing surge. 

And while around the foamy billow's sweep. 
The briny wave sheds momentary gleams, 
By which the spirits of the awfiil deep, 
Shall court my vision with horrifick screams. 

Stay, bard ! a moment stay ; 
For see, the morning ray 

Breaks from the eastern sky. 
Thus, wand' ring long unseen, 

In dim obscurity ! 



Where, O whither did'st thou stray, 
Radiant orb, that giv'st the day. 



P3 



174 LECTURES ON 

Long did we thy absence mourn ; 
Long we've waited thy return ; 
Say, refulgent planet, say, 
Where, O whither did'st thou stray 1 

Jonathan Mitchell Sewell, a poet of considerable note, was a law- 
yer, at the Rockingham Bar, in the state of New-Hampshire, He 
was a man of genius ; eloquent and rich in the charms of varied 
and happy conversational powers. He seldom exercised his mind 
on any subject, until some strong inducement was offered him; 
and those of fame were more powerful with him than those of 
money. He spent more of his strength upon whims and vagaries, 
to test his powers, than became a wise man, conscious that life is 
short and science long. But his heart was right, when his argu- 
ments were extravagant ; and the wildest of his eccentricities had 
the stamp of genius about them. His songs are full of the true 
spirit of poetry, and were generally produced on the spur of the 
occasion. He was delighted with Ossian, and paraphrased him in 
fine, flowing verse. His version was written before Linn's, and is 
more extensive, and, on the whole, better than that of the distin- 
guished poet of Pennsylvania, of whom we shall soon have occa- 
sion to say something. In the latter part of his life, he was often a 
prey to gloomy feelings ; and his sufferings did not, like Saul's, find 
an anodyne in the muse of another, and seldom a transitory gleam 
of comfort from his own. By seasons of melancholy, the mental 
fibre may become more attenuated and delicate; but gener£dly 
loses in strength more than it gains in sensibility. The heart must 
be pierced by the arrows of affliction, to enable it to pour out the 
sweetest strains of sympathy, but it must not be woimded too se- 
verely; its pulses must beat regularly in its greatest fulness, to 
give to thought its length, and breadth, and depth, and to fancy her 
extended wing and purest fire. It is not philosophically true, be- 
yond a certain extent, that, in the agonies of the heart, "he best 
can paint them who can feel them most." They may be felt too 
much for the sufferer, however poetical he may be, to describe 
them minutely and accurately. 

John Blair Linn was born ui Pennsylvania, in 1777, but most of 
his early life was passed in New York, imtil he became a preacher 
of the gospel. He possessed the true elements of a poet — strong 
affections, quick perceptions, expanded views, with an unquencha- 
ble love of distinction. He felt the full inspiration of genius, but at 
the same time acknowledged that, without industry, it was as 
useless as the scattered leaves of the Sybil. He opened upon the 
world, after he left college, as a student at law, a poet, a stage 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 175 

critick, and a dramatick writer. The great dramatick writers were 
to him, as they are, and have been, to many men of higli and cul- 
tivated minds, the master spirits of the literary world. To be en- 
rolled among them was then his ambition. There were, at that 
time, some admirable actors in the United States. 

Hodgkinson and his company were then in the height of their 
fame. Linn was enamoured with the fascinations of the stage, and 
presented them with a play called Bourville Castle, which was 
brought out in New- York with considerable success. But, in the 
midst of his popularity, he changed his views of the moral dignity 
of the course he was pursuing, and determined on divinity as a 
profession ; and, at once retiring from the gay and fashionable 
world, and the pleasures of the conversation of the poets and wits 
with whom he had associated, he began his new pursuits with the 
warmest visions of future usefulness. Divinity is a noble profession, 
for a man of genius, and of hallowed feelings. He is found at once 
in the company of saints and martyrs. The visions of glory they 
saw, he sees also. He converses with the dead, the resurrection, and 
the life to come ; and is, as it were, admitted, by the sanctity of his 
character, to a familiarity with his God. When in the pulpit, Linn's 
lips were touch'd with a coal of fire from the altar of the most High. 
When he dwelt on the loveliness of Christianity, and the hopes of 
those who die in the Lord, age bent with reverence at the truths 
which came sweetened by his eloquence, and beauty breathed new 
aspirations for immortality at his pictures of the happiness of the 
just made perfect. In the height of his fame, and in the midst of 
his usefulness, he forgot not the muse who was so fond of inspiring 
the moments of his childhood. He wrote a poem on the Death of 
Washington, and another on the Powers of Genius, which he had 
commenced some time before. The latter had a high reputation in 
England, and a splendid edition of it was published in London. 
The criticks spoke of it in a very favourable manner ; but while the 
whinings of every baby poet of England have gone through a dozen 
editions in this country, " The Powers of Genius" has been on the 
shelf these twenty years. That is not, however, its final destiny. 
It will find its place soon, and rank high in the annals of American 
poetry, when that poetry assumes the character which it has a legi- 
timate right to take. John Blair Linn died in the twenty-eighth 
year of his age, a Doctor of Divinity, beloved by the friends of learn- 
ing and piety, and honoured by the tears of genius. His fame is 
preserved for that period when we shall take an interest in our own 
talent, by the pen of Charles Brockden Brown, " which adorned 
every thing it touched." The following extract is from the " Powers 
of Genius ;" but the work must be read as a whole for one to form 



176 LECTURES ON 

a correct opinion of its merits as a composition. In this extract is 
a happy offering of one genius to another. 

" While nature howls, and mirth's gay whispers die, 
Her eye on fire — her soul in ecstacy ! 
See bolder Radcliffe take her boundless flight ! 
Clothed in the robes of terror and of night ! 
O'er wilds, o'er mountains, her high course extends, 
Thro' darkened woods, and thro' banditti's dens. 
At length she lights within some ruined tower, 
Willie from the turret tolls the midnight hour. 
A thousand phantoms follow at her call, 
And groans ascend along the mouldering wall. 
Dim shadows flutter o'er the sleepy vale ; 
And ghostly musick comes upon the gale ! 
A light appears ! some hollow voice is near ; 
Chill terror starts, and every pulse is fear !" 

Like other poets of his time, Linn was delighted with Ossian. 
This work was one of those which catch tlie fancy of the day, and 
then pass away. It was a tissue of silver on a cloth of a dark 
ground, beautiful and dazzling, but which loses its lustre by too 
much exposure, and is tarnished by the very breath of its admirers. 
The sound and wholesome taste which had been formed by the 
poets of America, by an intimate acquaintance with the best English 
writers, from Shakspeare down to Johnson, Cowper, Haley, Beattie, 
and others, who grew up after the age of Pope, Arbuthnot, and 
Young, was considerably shaken and vitiated by the sudden influ- 
ence of the Delia Cruscan school. These honied rhymes, without 
energy or point, came upon us like a deluge. They were so easily imi- 
tated, and any imitation was so near the original in point of genius, 
that a spawn of these namby-pamby verses came from the poets' 
corner of every newspaper, in such profusion, that one of taste might 
suppose that " Bedlam or Parnassus was let outP The French 
revolution had deranged all the maxims of criticism and morals as 
well as of politicks, and jingle and nonsense flowing in mellifluous 
currents often passed for true inspiration. Surrounded and influ- 
enced, more or less, by this bad taste, our poets grew up from 1792 
to 1800. In looking at their works, at this moment, the circum- 
stances of the case should be taken into consideration. Every poet 
or orator, in every age, is influenced in his taste by the opinions 
then prevalent. He may in some degree be affected even when he 
struggles to oppose it. Paine, Prentiss, and Lathrop, set their faces 
against every thing that was not justified by the canons of Pope ; 
but, at the same time, caught something of the rhapsodies of the day. 

Robert Treat Paine was, for ten or fifteen years, considered the 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 177 

first poet of the United States, although he wrote nothing of any- 
considerable length. His most happy effort, the song of " Adams 
and Li'berti/," gave its author (a copy-right being secured by the 
friendly and provident printer) more than ten dollars a line ; a rare 
instance of remuneration for literary labours in this country. His 
" Invention of Letters," was a poem of some length, and was much 
admired for its reach of thought, boldness of imagery, and smooth- 
ness of versification. It has lost cast, however, among the produc- 
tions of that period, but is still admired by many, and pronounced 
as holding a very high rank at the present time. The drama called 
forth his talents, and the ode he wrote for the opening of the Boston 
theatre, after it was burnt and rebuilt in 1796, ranks with Johnson's 
at the opening of the Drury Lane theatre. The criticks have pre- 
tended that Johnson was not a poet ; but whenever the finest ge- 
niuses of this country or England have ventured to take the same 
path in literature, the giant track of the great moralist has never 
been effaced by a more Herculean foot. 

Prentiss (we talk of those poets near our own time with more 
familiarity, their history being known to all) was a wit who wrote 
with great ease and neatness. He was without bustle, splendour, 
pomp, pride, or circumstance, in his literary labours. He manu- 
factured occasional odes, songs, and satires, as ihe business of the 
day, and never thought of them again for profit or fame. He was 
not so capable of lofty flights as Paine, but he was more accurate in 
his figures, and more easy in his versification. With proper induce- 
ments, he was capable of more continued efforts, and more regular 
and certain results. His knowledge was more extensive and classi- 
cal than Paine's ; but he could not make such an array of it as his 
rival could, when excited by the corruscations of other minds. 
Paine, in a flood of mental light, when song and wit went round, 
was the object of attraction, however numerous were those who con- 
tended for victory. 

John Lathrop was contemporary with Paine and Prentiss in 
college ; and like them, he studied law, became a writer in the 
publick, and, then, an editor of a newspaper. He was a man 
of considerable talent and taste, and a pure, sensible writer, m 
prose and verse. His poetry was not so lofty as Paine's, nor so 
witty as Prentiss' ; but was more regular, equal, and classical than 
either. He was a more regular scholar, better acquainted with 
rules than his rivals; and, probably, most of his productions are 
destined to more enduring praise than theirs. His life was an 
eventful one. Ten years, or more, of it were spent in the East 
Indies, where he experienced much, and learned nothing but ijow 
to advise others. He often complained rather of himself than of 
23 



178 LECTURES ON 

his acquaintances. Tossed from law to a clerkship ; from that to 
literary fagging ; from that to instructing of youths, and from this 
employment to a clerkship again, and from that to liis grave ; he 
kncAV no rest, from the commencement to the close of his career. 
He was first known as a writer when the publick taste was vitiated ; 
and bombast and inflation passed for energy and genius. But he 
stemmed the current manfully, and was not, like many others, 
carried down by it. His early and his latter pieces have a freedom 
from singularity and affectation, which show the clearness of his 
conceptions and the delicacy of his feelings and taste. Among the 
best of his productions, is the " Vision of Canonicus," the sachem 
of the Narraganset Indians. This is the first production of that 
school of poetry, which has since been so prolifick in lovers of the 
Aboriginals. The Indians of our country, up to his time, had not 
met with much sympathy, or had many songs of praise or justice 
lavished on them. If they were mentioned by the poets of " olden 
time," it was, 

" Heard ye yon arrow hurtle through the air? 

" Or saw ye the tomahawk or scalping knife, ready to destroy old age 
and infancy ? Or does not the war-cry stiffen your soul with horror ?" 
These were the usual introductions of works on the Indians. The 
few good things honest Roger Williams, or Elliot, their apostle, had 
ventured to whisper in their praise, had been forgotten in the suc- 
ceeding ages of blood and massacre. The day of retribution has, 
however, come ; and some of our poets are making these sons of 
the forest the heroes of epics and the knights of song. It is no 
small praise to be called the pioneer in this course of magnanimity 
and justice. 

Soon after the time of Prentiss, Paine, and Lathrop, William 
Boyd, who died very young, was coming forward with great pro- 
mise, as a poet. Several of his productions, as an under graduate, 
have been published, and have been thought by good judges, to be 
very clever. His poem on woman has many beauties in it ; and, 
considering his youth, at the time he wrote, may be placed high on 
the list of the works which have given celebrity to some of his 
compeers. The subject is treated by him with considerable no- 
velty, and without one particle of improper freedom ; for he wrote 
at a time when every one was not so cautious. Boyd was a man 
of genius, delicate and refined in his feelings, and suffered from 
having more taste than was tlien marketable, and more sensibility 
than could be understood by the common members of society. The 
most delicate and susceptible are the most readily misunderstood. 
Their effusions are poured out on all aroimd them, and are too often 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 179 

chilled by the atmosphere they meet. They admire and love by 
too strong impulses, and act too often without regard to conse- 
quences, or never think of contingencies. They are formed to be 
delighted, and, perhaps, enamoured with the gay, the sentimental 
and intelligent, who lavish on them tlieir smiles; and these sus- 
ceptible beings are ready to defend those they love at every risk. 
They think, at least, that they have made as strong an impression 
on others, as others have on them ; and calculate what others would 
do for them, by feeling what they would do for others. In addi- 
tion to this, such a mind is anxious every hour for fear he may 
offend some of his friends, and spends many a sleepless night in 
dwelling upon some look of his friend, not so kind as he could 
expect or wish, and runs his imagination into all possible causes 
for his supposed alteration, when none exists, nor even a thought 
of change has entered the mind of him, so strangely altered in the 
view of the sentimentalist. At one hour the mind of so delicate a 
man is tortured by thinking that he has done something to diminish 
his reputation for genius ; at another, that his friend may be 
surfeited, and that were worse than death. This lady did not 
look so kindly as she was wont to do, and he had lost ground 
in her good graces, or some such matter. So the too sensitive man 
is tossed from one Avretchedness to another, until he sinks into mise- 
ry or misanthropy — and falls, perhaps, into a decline, that ends his 
days and evils together. Many have fallen victims to such a mor- 
bid state ; and have not had a mourner for their death, nor hardly 
a follower to the grave, from out of the very circle for which it 
may be said that they died. Could the victim of sensibility live 
over the shock of his early heartaches, and look deeply into the 
world, he would find no excuse for wasting his sympathies on 
those who had them ; for, on a reverse of fortune, he would dis- 
cover that he had made a false estimate, in many instances, of 
those with whom he had been associated. Vanity sometimes comes 
in as an antidote, to assist the sufferer, but pride is a much better 
support. Boyd had more genius than he had credit for ; more sen- 
sibility than pride ; and felt more of the agonies of love than of the 
cordials of admiration ; and his delicate constitution sunk under 
them in early life. 

Another of these early victims to the consumption, from whom 
much was expected by the literary part of the community, was 
William CUfton. He was well known in Philadelphia, in which 
city he was born, in 1773, and where he died, in 1799, in the twenty- 
seventh year of his age. His parents Avere of the society of Friends, 
but it was never knoAvn that he was, after he arrived to manhood, 
particularly partial to the tenets of the sect. In some thijigs he 



180 LECTURES ON 

must have differed widely from them, as he was an advocate for 
M'^ar, or at least a war spirit is strongly breathed in some of his oc- 
casional odes and songs of patriotick cast. His father was a man of 
fortune, and as his constitution was delicate, he never entered much 
into the details of business, nor had occasion for the emoluments of 
it. Clifton was just coming to manhood when the French revolu- 
tion burst out. He was distinctly on the side of legitimacy, and 
suffered his feelings to get deeply engaged in the affairs of the 
world at that time. Every thing that had the hoar of antiquity upon 
it, was likely to be swept away without distinction ; not only titles, 
but habits, laws, and manners Avere changed. The methods of 
thinking and writing suffered the greatest changes ; and he saw, like 
Fisher Ames, and other amiable men, nothing but darkness and 
evil. At this time Gifford's Baviad and M^viad came from the 
press, and made a great impression upon the literary world. It was 
a good piece of satire, of old fashioned stuff, of the school of Pope. 
It was reprinted in this country, and Clifton wrote a poetical epistle 
to the author, after the practice of former days, which was prefixed 
to it. This work gave Clifton a high stand among our poets, and 
the praise bestowed on Gifford was so unequivocal, that the crusty 
translator of Juvenal was thought to have viewed the epistle of his 
young admirer with some complacency. The address deplored 
the situation of letters in our own country, in terms sufficiently dis- 
tinct and unpretending to suit even Gifford, who could hear of no- 
thing but what was within the sound of Bow bells. 

" beneath our shifting skiea 



R'^here fancy sickens, and where genius dies ; 
Where few and feeble are the muse's strains, 
And no fine fancy riots in the veins ; 
There still are found a FEW to whom belong 
The fire of nrtue and the soul of song." 

It was not to be wondered at, that our poets should have decried 
our taste for poetry or the fine arts; for all was then bustle and po- 
liticks, or calculations and commerce ; all the ambitious were stri- 
ving to be statesmen ; and no other path to fame was open. The 
learned professions had not then taken the stand they now have ; 
they were in the second and third classes in society. The merchant 
and statesman were very far before them ; and literary men by pro 
fession were unknown to us. From every line of Clifton it is easily 
seen, that he was sensitive on this as on other subjects; and as he 
was above any apprehension for a support, he lashed about him in 
the most fearless manner. That he had genius, no one who has 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 181 

read his works will deny. His poetry was formed in the school of 
Dtyden and Pope, and long: study in the mastery of language, and 
in maturing his thoughts, would, if his life had been spared, unques- 
tionably have made him a poet worthy of being ranlced with them ; 
if not on an equality, (for this is to be obtained by a few only,) he 
certainly would have been a distinguished follower of these great 
English bards. In patriot ick songs, in which most poets have failed, 
there being but few good compositions in national songs to be found 
in any language, he had considerable tact, as the following wUl 
prove : 

"Soul of Columbia, quenchless spirit come! 
Unroll thy standard to the sullen sky : 
Bind on thy war-robes, beat the furious drum ; 
Rouse, rouse thy lion heart, and fire thy eagle eye ! 
Dost thou not hear the hum of gath'ring war ; 

Dost thou not know 

The insidious foe 
Yokes ber gaunt wolves, and mounts her midnight car ! 

Dost thou not hear thy tortufd seamen's cries 1 
Poor hapless souls in dreary dungeons laid ; 
Towards thee they turn their dim imploring eyes ; 
Alas ! they sink — and no kind hand to aid. 

Thou dost, and every son of thine 

Shall rest in guUty peace no more, 

With noble rage, they pant to join 

The conflict's heat, the battle roar. 
Loose to the tempest let thy banner fly, 
Rouse, rouse thy lion heart, and fire thy eagle eye !'• 

If this is not the best of poetry, it is high spirited sentiment for a 
quaker. He saw, at that time, what he considered a crouching 
tameness in the people of the United States, to the mighty and ter- 
rifick power of France ; but he mistook party hesitation for national 
imbecility, and seemed to forget that three thousand miles of water 
rolled between us and the legions of the Republick, who, in frenzy, 
were sweeping along through Germany, and covering the valleys 
and hUls of Italy. There were men, and intelligent and amiable 
men too, whose dreams were nightly disturbed by images of French 
armies ravaging our country, and immolatingevery opposer, from 
infancy to old age. It was literally the reign of terror among many 
of our reflecting part of the community. In such a state of things 
the arts were forgotten, and poetry could only breathe imprecations. 
Q 27 



182 LECTURES ON 

Contemporary with Paine, Lathrop, and Prentiss, were several 
writers of poetry of considerable note, and in tlie estimation of 
some persons, if they were not so much Ivnown, were fully equal to 
those who occupied the front rank in publick estimation. Joseph 
Allen of Worcester, was a class-mate with Paine, and delivered a 
poem at the Commencement in which he was graduated, that was 
highly spoken of. 

Isaac Story was about the age of Allen. He wrote a considera- 
ble number of occasional poems, under the signature of Peter 
Quince, which were well received. They were written in imitation 
of Peter Pindar ; but Story had more delicacy, if not so much wit, 
as his original. These pieces were collected into a volume, and 
have sufficient merit to place him among our poets of this age. 
He died young, and at a moment when he was fast rising into 
fame. His death was deeply lamented by the publick ; and with 
the literati and professional men of the day, he was a great favourite. 

Paul Allen, lately deceased, devoted most of his days to literary 
pursuits, and has in his course been a great contributor to the 
stock of American literature, and a refiner of our taste in good 
writing. For more than twenty years, he has been pouring out 
prose and verse for the benefit of the publick in great honesty, pu- 
rity, and good taste. Many of our periodicals have been enriched 
with articles from his pen. Several of these journals he established, 
or was editor of, for sometime. He wrote boldly, but naturally, and 
did much by example and precept towards breaking down that 
sesquipedalian style that had become so prevalent in this country, 
by attempts to imitate Johnson's Rambler, and other works from 
his pen. Such men as Paul Allen deserve a memoir of no inconsi- 
derable length, written by some friend of taste and talents. The 
changes in our literary taste and habits, during the time he was 
engaged as an author, would make a subject of deep interest, ac- 
companied by the incidents in the life of an amiable man and an 
elegant writer. 

Seleck Osborn is a name known to all our readers of poetry ; it 
was found for many years going the rounds in the poets' corner of 
every newspaper, from one end of the country to the other, and was 
not unfrequently attached to morsels of exquisite taste. He was na- 
turally an amiable man, but his temper became a little soured by 
political contests ; a political arena is a miserable place for a 
man of delicate or refined feelings ; — he grows acrimonious upon 
repeated irritations ; and all this injures the temper of his muse. 
The muse can follow, and has been found inspiring, the half-starved 
wretch in his garret ; yea, has accompanied him to a dungeon and 
softened the weight of his chains. She has gone with the hero to 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 183 

the battle-field, and led side by side with honour and glory, has 
waded with him through scenes of blood and death, and inspired 
the song of victory. She has even sometimes looked in a court 
of justice, and, without being chilled to death among judges 
and la^vyers ; — but never could she abide politicks, in the nature of 
party feuds. In patriotick songs she has often had a magical in- 
fluence, but her magick is all lost the moment she mingles in 
party strife. Osborn discovered this, and in the selections he made 
from his works for a volume, whicli he printed a few years since, 
he left out all those poems that had the slightest party bearing in 
them. This volume was printed at Boston, and contained some 
very fine poetry ; but there never was a poet, who did not suffer 
by having his fugitive productions brought together in a volume. 
They wafted more reputation as they flew, than they will praise 
when caught up and bound together. It is not the fault of the poet ; 
it is in the minds of men ; who would not rather sit down, and read 
Sir Richard Blackmore's Creation, through and through, than to be 
confined to an equal number of pages in a Hymn Book, in which 
there is generally some good poetry, and much devotion. This 
volume of Osborn's, is among the best of our collections of tliis 
kind, and is printed in such a form as to ensure its preservation in 
our libraries. 

Captain Spence, a gentleman whose manners, acquirements, and 
disposition, made him the charm of every circle, was a poet of a fine 
natural taste. Wliile a midshipman and a junior lieutenant in the 
navy, he amused himself in writing poetry of a sentimental cast, 
which bore marks of a powerful intellect. The sea has not been, 
as one might suppose it would be, a very fine scene to inspire 
the votaries of song. Even Falconer wrote the Shipwreck, not on 
shipboard, but from recollections of the dangers of the sea, while 
he was safe on land. Captain Spense indulged himself but little 
in the latter part of his life in writing verses, but he was well read 
in English poetry, which makes up no small part of all tliat is 
valuable in our language. The prose productions of the age of 
Elizabeth, are scarcely ever read, while Kit Marlowe, Ben Jonson, 
and Shakspeare, are in the mouths of every one. The work, said 
to be from the pen of Mr. Spence, and I believe it was never denied 
by him, was called Edwin the Wanderer. 

John G. C. Brainard, who has lately deceased, was a poet of su- 
periour talents. Tlie publick thought well of him, but did not 
know him sufficiently to give him full credit for the high powers 
of his understanding or the virtues of his heart. He was a native 
of Connecticut, was graduated at Yale College in the class of 1815 j 
read law, and in regular time opened his office ; but felt too 



184 LECTURES ON 

strongly the workings of his genius to attend to clients if they 
called, and too proud to seek them, if they did not ; and, as is often 
the case with such gifted men, hurried himself into an editorship. 
The Connecticut Mirror, for several years bore marks of his genius 
and varied learning. His temperament was poetical, restless, and 
inclined to melancholy ; but he so often disguised this, by occa- 
sional exuberance of spirits, so common to minds "attuned to 
strange fancies," that it was not generally known that he ever in- 
dulged in gloomy thoughts. In his hours of attick flow, he was a 
most excellent companion, both entertaining and instructive, but 
even in these hours of freedom and pleasure, he never offended 
decency or morals, but poured out his soul in a stream of pure feel- 
ing and delicacy. In a youthful mind struggling with difficulties, 
there is often found confusion, skepticism, and every tumult and 
doubt respecting this and another world ; — at one moment he sees 
a fiend on the blast, with a vial of wrath, ready to pour it out on 
every mortal head, particularly his own ; at another moment, the 
clouds burst away, and the joyous rays of hope come on the sun- 
beams to illumine and beautify every thing; again the evil spirits and 
the good spirits commingle, and his bosom is torn with conflicting 
emotions. Such are the wayward feelings of youthful genius. 
Time, severe occupation, philosophy with her deep streams of wis- 
dom, and religion with her holy influences, are all necessary to 
calm, to direct, and to keep him in the way of usefulness and ho- 
nour. He did not live long enough to erect such a reputation as 
he had talents for. His poetry seemed to breathe a presentiment 
that this world was not to be his, for any considerable length of 
time ; nor was it. He died on the 20th of September, 1828, in the 
thirty-third year of his age. His effiisions were printed in a vo- 
lume before his death, and it is left for us to conjecture what he 
might have done had he lived, from what he had accomplished 
before his death ; and who is prepared to say that this would not 
have been much 1 

There is one little anonjrmous fragment of American poetry ex- 
tant, which I will ask permission to insert for its truth and loveli- 
ness. It is a proposed addition to that exquisite Elegy in a Country 
Churchyard, by Gray. The author thought that Gray had not 
given the subjects of his muse enough of a religious character to 
make the charm complete, and offered the following amendment, 
although any amendment may be inadmissible, yet what was offered 
should be preserved. The author suggested, that it should follow 
the stanza beginning, 

" Far from the maddening crowd's ignoble strife." 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 185 

Would it mar the beauty of the ode if it were added ? You must 
judge. 

No airy dreams their simple fancies fired, 
No thirst for wealth, nor panting after fame ; 
But truth dinne, sublimer hopes inspired. 
And urged them onward to a nobler aim. 

From every cottage, with the day arose 
The hallowed voice of spirit-breathing prayer ; 
And artless anthems, at the peaceful close, 
Like holy incense, charmed the evening air. 

Though they, each tome of human lore unknown, 
The brilliant path of science never trod. 
The sacred volume claimed their hearts alone, 
Which taught the way to glory and to God. 

Here they from Truth's eternal fountain drew 
The pure and gladdening waters day by day ; 
Learnt, since our days are evil, fleet, and few, 
To walk in wisdom's bright and peaceful way. 

In yon lone pile, o'er which hath sternly pass'd 

The heavy hand of all-destroying Time, 

Through whose low mouldering aisles now sighs the blast, 

And round whose altars grass and ivy clunb ; 

They gladly thronged their grateful hymns to raise. 
Oft as the calm and holy sabbath shone ; 
The mingled tribute of their prayers and praise. 
In sweet communion rose before the throne. 

Here, from those honoured lips, which sacred fire 
From heaven's high chancery hath touched, they hear 
Truths which their zeal inflame, their hopes inspire, 
Give wings to faith, and check affliction's tear ! 

When life flowed by, and like an angel. Death 
Came to release them to the world on high. 
Praise trembled still on each expiring breath, 
And holy triumph beamed from every eye. 

Then gentle hands their " dust to dust" consign j 
With quiet tears, the simple rites are said ; 
And here they sleep, till at the trump divine, 
The earth and ocean render up their dead. 
Q2 23 



186 LECTURES ON 

It was fashionable in the latter days of Darwin, and in the early- 
days of Southey, to speak lightly of the productions of Pope. The 
criticks found that he had sometimes indulged his resentments in 
the Dunciad, and doomed several characters to infamy who de- 
served a better fate. The small fry of authors who wished to hide 
their feebleness in the extravagancies of sentiment then becoming 
popular by the influence of the French Revolution, and the influx 
of German literature, which had not been well examined, nor the 
chaff" separated from the wheat, supported by a few men of genius, 
who had taken up some erroneous impressions on the canons of 
poetry, did, for a while, obscure the fame of Pope ; and it seemed, 
for a season, that he would at length be found in his own Dunciad. 
They attacked him as a writer wanting in variety and genius, and 
boldly called his morals in question. The clouds which obscured 
his brightness did not last long, but were soon dispersed, and his 
genius beamed in its ancient majesty. Byron would yield to no 
one in his reverence of Pope : and almost all the present poets of 
England, who are the arbiters of taste, have come into the opinion 
that Pope was a genius and a poet, such as it is seldom the good for- 
tune of nations to produce. 

This may be said to be an age of poetry. There are many living 
writers whose works have secured them wealth and fame, while 
they were able to enjoy it. Southey's muse has brought forth epicks 
as common songs ; and Scott, before he commenced the Waverly 
novels, produced Marmion, the Lay of the Last Minstrel, Rokeby, 
the Lady of the Lake, and the Vision of Don Roderick, with other 
pieces, in quick succession. Byron from his boyhood never laid 
aside his pen imtil the wrongs of Greece seized his heart. Childe 
Harold, the Corsair, the Gaiour, the Bride of Abydos, Cain, and 
Don Juan, followed each other as rapidly as the French legions 
which crossed the Alps with Napoleon. Montgomery, Coleridge, 
Crabbe, and Moore, have been busy. The poUshed Campbell, and 
the Shakspearian Baillie, have not been idle. 

The poets of our own country have had these fine models before 
them ; and they have shown the world that they have profited by 
being in such a school. There is at present much talent, ambition, 
and information among our poets, and they are getting rid of the 
ridiculous impressions which have long been prevalent, that genius 
is every thing, and information nothing, in making a poet. The 
prophets of old had to build the altar, and lay on it the wood, before 
they called the fire from heaven to kindle the flame and burn the 
offering. 

My intention, at first, was to have mentioned many of our living 
poets ; two only have I named, Freneau and Trumbull, and these 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 187 

patriotick bards are so near, in the course of nature, to the confines 
of a better world, that I felt no reluctance to speak of them ; but on 
mature reflection, I gave up the thought of bringing forward any 
more, fearing that it would be premature to discuss their merits in a 
work like this, as a fair criticism on these would be in a measure 
making comparisons between them. I have no hesitation in saying, 
that we abound in good poets, whose Avritings will remain to make 
up the literature of a future age ; nor would I yield my admiration 
for their productions to others who are prodigal of praise whenever 
their works appear ; but at this time I am not prepared to say whe- 
ther Pierpont or Bryant be the greater poet, or whether Percival 
has higher claims to immortality than his brethren of the " enchanted 
grounds and holy dreams ;" nor whether she of " the banks of the 
Connecticut,^'' whose strains of poetick thought are as pure and 
lovely as the adjacent wave touched by the sanctity of a Sabbath's 
morn, be equal to her tuneful sisters, Hemans and Lander, on the 
other side of the water, or superiour to her more sprightly rivals 
on this. 

When all classes were busy in building up our national and state 
governments, the fine arts were neglected ; and a few only knew 
how necessary the cultivation of them was to refine and polish a 
nation. Even in England, until within half a century, any devotion 
to them was considered inconsistent with weighty duties. "Wind- 
ham, Talbot, Murray, and Pulteney, "every muse gave o'er," before 
they entered the temple of justice, and assumed the causes of their 
clients ; and Blackstone dropt a tear at parting with his muse at the 
vestibule of Westminster Hall. Parsons, of our own country, as 
great a name as either, who thought that he was made more de- 
cidedly for a poet than for any other calling, confined himself to 
writing a few occasional pieces, generally on some merry-making 
occurrence, not venturing to trust himself further ; while he read 
with avidity every line that was published on this, or the other side 
of the Atlantick, in English, French, Italian, or Latin. It is not so 
now ; it is thought quite possible to devote a few hours of relaxation 
from severe studies to the fine arts, without any fear of being se- 
duced from graver duties. Opinions and taste are changed in many 
other respects. The good household dames of other days would 
have turned shuddering from the sight of Cupids, and Venuses, and 
Graces, which the maiden of the present day, pure as the stainless 
snow, will sit before whole hours, engaged in her innocent drawing 
lessons. The mind, properly disciplined, is capable of sustaining 
much ; as the body in full health can support heat and cold. There 
are no sickly images while there is a sane mind in a sane body. 
Numerous instances of the facility of passing from severe labour to 



188 LECTURES ON 

sportiveness, are now at hand. Sir Walter Scott wrote all his poetry, 
and many of his novels, in hours of relaxation from the dull details 
of a clerkship in a court of justice. Sir William Jones left Hafiz, 
and all the enchantments of Arabian poetry, to throw new light 
upon the black letter of the law, and to give a reason for a principle 
in Coke upon Littleton, when the two great luminaries of the science 
had only stated a decision. Some of the great dignitaries of the 
church have awakened their zeal by invoking the muse ; and the 
great statesman of England, who has lately become a tenant of the 
tomb, found his poetry as effective as his eloquence in scattering and 
subduing his opposers, and in building up his systems, and supporting 
his policy. The poetry of the Anti-Jacobin did more than a thou- 
sand homilies to defend the cause of old fashioned honesty; and "the 
Loves of the Triangles," checked the false politicks and the bad taste 
of the Darwinian school. Like the eagle. Canning passed f^-om 
watching the fish-hawks along the coast, to soaring and poising 
sublimely in the heavens, and to gazing with undazzled eye upon 
the sun. 

We have, by the mistake or modesty of our own writers, been 
ranked among those nations which have lately become litera- 
ry. But avoiding all further deception on that head, it is to be ho- 
ped that we have now arrived at that point in our literary histo- 
ry, when it is proper for us to assume some share of independence. 
Not only our mother country is pouring in her literature by the 
hale upon us, as usual, but other countries are also doing the same. 
The whole European continent is open to our researches, and 
yields her literary and scientifick treasures to our enterprise ; and 
our missionaries, in conjunction with those of other countries, are 
throwing open the door to the immense storehouses of oriental 
learning, where the treasures of unnumbered ages have been lodg- 
ed. Even a key to the mysteries of Egyptian wisdom has been 
found, and the veil of Isis is about to be removed. At the same time, 
all things have become well settled upon true principles among 
us, and the agitation and bustle of their establishment having passed 
away, some of the first minds will gratify their ambition by literary 
distinction ; and claim their country's gratitude, by refining our 
taste, and raising our standard of literary eminence. 

Here nature presents her beauties in as delicate forms, and her 
wonders in as bold relief, as she has in the birth place of the muses. 
She has laid the foundation of her mountains as broad, and raised 
their tops as high as in the old world. What are the Tibers and 
Scamanders, measured by the Missouri and tlie Amazon ? Or what 
the loveliness of Illyssus or Avon, by the Connecticut or the Poto- 
mack? The waters of these American rivers are as pure and 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 189 

sweet, and their names would be as poetical, were they as familiar 
to us in song, as the others, which have been immortalized for ages. 
Whenever a nation wills it, prodigies are born. Admiration and 
patronage create myriads who struggle for the mastery, and for the 
olympick crown. Encourage the game, and the victors will come. 
In the smiles of publick favour, poets will arise, yea, have already 
arisen, whose rays of mental fire will burn out the foul stain upon 
our reputation, given at first by irritated and neglected genius, and 
continued by envy and malice — that this is the land 

" Where fancy sickens, and where genius dies." 



-^^Qf^- 



LECTURE XL 



" The sciences which do honour to the human mind — the arts which em- 
bellish human life, and transmit illustrious actions to posterity — should be pe- 
culiarly respected in all free governments. All men of genius, all who have 
obtained a distinguished rank in the republick of letters, wherever they were 
born, are of my country. 

'• I invite the learned to assemble, and to propose to me their views, their 
names, or the assistance they may want, to give new life and existence to the 
sciences and fine arts. My people set a greater value on the acquisition of a 
learned mathematician, a painter of reputation, or any distinguished man, 
whatever may be his profession, than in the possession of the richest and 
most abundant city." — Buonaparte's letter to the astronomer Oriani. 

The fine arts can only flourish in the bosom of refinement. They 
are the latest offsprings of the muse. Poetry is her first born, and 
painting and statuary the youngest of her children ; and there has 
generally been a long interval between the births of the sisters. 
Poetry may live in sylvan scenes, and with a primitive people ; but 
the arts must be cherished by wealth and taste, and grow in the 
sunshine of patronage. A poet may chant his verses for his own 
pleasure, in his own circle ; but the painter and sculptor must be 
stimulated by the gaze and admiration of intelligence and fashion. 
Poets may make the solitudes vocal with inspired numbers, to charm 
some woodland nymph ; but no one ever patiently laid his colours 



190 LECTURES ON 

on the canvass, or spent long painful years in chiselling the mar- 
ble, without looking forward to the hour when his labours would 
be rewarded by a Avreath of fame, or a shower of gold. 

From the nature of the moral and physical growth of this coun- 
try, it could not be expected that we should be distinguished in 
the fine arts, particularly in the early ages of our history ; not that 
our fathers were wanting in taste for the fine arts, but that their 
situation forbade them from indulging a thought for any thing beyond 
what was absolutely necessary for a comfortable existence. They 
brought some pictures with them, but in general, they were nothing 
more than armorial bearings and family portraits ; and, in truth, at 
that period, in England there was not much attention paid to paint- 
ing, statuary, architecture, or music. Wren had not then arisen, 
nor had there been a splendid edifice erected since the gothick ages 
had passed away ; ages in which the solemn piles of religious enthu- 
siasm arose, and with them the massy walls of the feudal castle. 
The religion of England was changed ; the mode of warfare was 
changed ; the monastery was not occvipied, and the moat, the draw- 
bridge, and portecullis, were no longer useful for defence ; and the 
Grecian orders, in which reside ease, repose, grace, and beauty, had 
not then found their way to England ; it could not, therefore, be 
expected that the fine arts, in any of their best forms, could easily 
have found their way to America, when they were not, at that time, 
cherished in the mother country. Now and then an Italian painter, 
or one of the Flemish school, would stray across the Atlantick, and 
leave some traces of his art here, which have afterwards excited 
our curiosity, to know from whose hand they came. 

The first artist of distinction I can find any record of among us, 
was Smybert, a painter who came out to this country Avith Dean 
Berkley, in 1728. He was at first attached to the family of the good 
man, and there is now a painting in Yale College, from his pencil. 
It is a picture of the Dean's family. Smybert was a man of genius, 
whose talents had attracted the attention of this generous ecclesias- 
tick, and he wished to serve him after he had discovered his merits. 
Smybert was almost a self-taught artist, having commenced in life 
as an ornamental chair, clock, or house painter, one grade only 
above the mechanical pai't of painting ; but feeling the inspiration 
of a higher ambition, and a capacity for better things, he visited 
Italy, and returned with much of that knowledge which genius 
catches by being in tlie atmosphere of taste and enthusiasm for the 
arts. On the Dean's leaving this country, Smybert settled in Bos- 
ton, and commenced in his profession with what was then thought 
a good patronage, and took quite a respectable rank in society as 
a citizen. Many of his portraits are in being now, and some of 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 191 

them are very good likenesses, and quite respectable paintings. 
The poet Green, who, from his taste, talents, wealth, and wit, stood 
among the first in the society of Boston, at that time, speaks of 
Smybert with affection and respect, as a citizen and artist. Smy- 
bert's head of the Cardinal Bentivolio, and of Dr. Mayhew, are among 
the first of fine portraits. 

Copley followed Smybert in Boston, and must have been distin- 
guished about the time Smybert died. From the best information 
I can procure. Copley was his pupil for several years. He painted 
many portraits in this country; probably more than any man except 
Gilbert Stuart. FuU lengths were then the fashion ; and many of 
them, from Copley's pencil, are now to be found in Massachusetts, 
His likenesses were faithful ; but it was in his colouring and dra- 
pery that he excelled any other man of modern times. Copley 
was highly respected for his gentlemanly manners, as well as 
for his professional eminence; and during the first years of that 
agitation which preceded tlie revolutionary conflict, was often in- 
strumental in allaying political excitements, which procured from 
his neiglibours the appellation of peace maker ; but the times soon 
grew too boisterous for an artist, and he departed for England some 
years before the battle of Lexington. In England he had opportu- 
nities of displaying his powers as an historical painter. The num- 
ber of his pictures is considerable. We will mention a few of his 
most celebrated works ; but we do not profess to be sufficiently ac- 
quainted with them, to venture any criticisms. It would not, how- 
ever, be too much to say, that they were universally admired by 
those who have had the pleasure of examining them. 

1. The Tribute Money. — "Render unto Caesar the things that are 
Ceesar's, &c." 

2. Samuel and Eli. — " The Lord called unto Samuel." 

3. Charles demanding of Parliament the Surrender of the 
Members. 

4. The Nativity of our Saviour. 

5. Surrender of Admiral De Winter to Lord Duncan. 

6. Sortie from Gibraltar, 

7. Death of Chatham. 

8. A Youth rescued from a Shark. 

9. Death of Major Pierson, 

10. Abraham offering up Isaac. 

11. Hagar and Ishmael. 

He was prosperous in his day and generation ; his son. Lord Lynd- 
hurst, is now High Chancellor of England, and his other children 
eligibly situated in life. He had the good fortime to be as accepta- 
ble to the people of England, as he had been in his native country 



192 LECTURES ON 

Haley, in his poetical epistles on the painters, after naming "West 
and his works as he should be named, pays this fine and highly 
deserved compliment on Copley : 

" With kindred power, a rival hand succeeds, 
For whose just fame, expiring Chatham pleads ; 
Like Chatham's language, luminous and bold, 
Thy colours, Copley, the dread scene unfold, 
When that prime spirit, by whose guidance hurl'd, 
Britain's avenging thunder aw'd the world ; 
In patriot cares, employ'd his parting breath, 
Struck in his field of civic fame by death ; 
And freedom, happy in the tribute paid 
By art and genius to so dear a shade, 
Shall own, the measure of tliis praise to fill, 
The awful subject equalled by thy skill." 

It is difficult to speak of our countryman, Sir Benjamin West, 
for his talents were only discovered in this country, but cherished 
in England. There, for more than half a century, he was a favourite 
of the British nation, and was patronized by its king. He was 
admired for the amenity of his manners and the purity of his life, as 
well as for his excellence in his profession. He was true to his patrons, 
but he never forgot his country, and was the instructer, friend, 
and father of the young Americans who flocked to see him, and get 
advice and direction from him. Perhaps we take too much credit 
for West as our countryman ; for, most certainly, the country that 
adopts, supports, and honours a man, has a better claim to him than 
that which gave him birth, and but little more. He was equally 
the favourite of kings and poets, and both bound his brow with 
their appropriate wreaths. Like Michael Angelo, he lived long 
to be the friend and patron of the enterprising young artists of his 
own and other countries, and he was affectionate and brotherly to 
the very last hours of his life. The tribute paid him in the " Epis- 
tle on the Painters," is not only correct, but in good taste. 

" Supremely skill'd the varied group to place, 
And range the crowded scene with every grace ; 
To finish parts, yet not impair the whole. 
But on the impassion'd action fix the soul ; 
Through wondering throngs the patriot chief to guide, 
The shame of Carthage, as of Rome the pride ; 
Or while the bleeding victor yields his breath. 
Gives the bright lesson of heroick death. 
Such are thy merits, West, by virtue's hand, 
Built on the human heart, thy praise shedl stand, 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 193 

While dear to glory in her guardian fane, 
The names of Regulus and Wolfe remain." 

The patriarch painter descended full of honours to the grave, 
leaving a reputation of which both the country of his birth and of 
his adoption were proud. His biography has been written with 
taste and interest by Gait, and sketches of him are numerous. 

During the revohitionary war, the fine arts in this country were 
merged in arms, and nothing was thought of, but matters of suste- 
nance and defence. The few who had come to a resolution to 
devote themselves to the fine arts, and make them a profession, had 
escaped from the scenes of blood and strife, and were seeking 
repose and instruction in other countries. 

Soon after the peace of 1783, Johnson, who had been a brave 
officer of our army, took up the pencil as a profession, and made 
his head quarters at Boston. Johnson was a man of a powerful 
mind, and had a correct eye and a steady hand, but was, from the 
nature of his education deficient in drawing, the great defect of 
self-taught artists. The science of drawing was more rare with 
our artists formerly, than the faculty of colouring well ; Johnson 
has, however, left many portraits which are strong likenesses, and 
are more valuable to the present generation than fine paintings 
would be, if they were but indifferent likenesses of our fathers. 

Hancock, a miniature painter, was contemporary with Johnson, 
and took some fine miniatures of the people of that age. Had his 
colours been less evanescent, his fame would have been more dif- 
fused and permanent. He was at times very happy in catching a 
good resemblance in the size of half an inch in diameter ; some 
of these, set in finger rings, have been preserved, and give him a 
claim to be remembered among the artists of his day. 

Among the most distinguished of American painters was Gilbert 
Stuart, who has lately deceased. He was a native of Rhode Island, 
and, after leaving college, made up his mind to foUow painting as a 
profession, and not being able to find a proper master in this coun- 
try, Copley being then gone to England, he embarked for that 
country, in 1775, and put himself under the instruction of IMr. West, 
who was then in the zenith of his fame. Stuart soon became a 
favourite pupil of his master, and graduated from his school with a 
high reputation as a portrait painter ; he ranked second to no one, in 
London, but Sir Joshua Reynolds. While in the metropolis, he 
had the good fortune to become acquainted with Burke, Fox, Sheri- 
dan, and with many of their associates. These men were not only 
patrons of the arts, but the friends of artists. He painted several 
of them in a fine style, which spread his fame far and wide. From 

25 



194 LECTURES ON 

London he went to Ireland, and spent several years in Dublin. In 
this city he was without a rival, and had as much business as he 
could attend to. In the polished society of that hospitable and 
tasteful place he was a great favourite ; and he relished the wit and 
gaiety of the Irish beyond measure. Painters seldom feel content- 
ed to remain many years in one place. They are anxious to catch 
the admiration of many cities and different classes of society, to 
see new faces, and to study expression in every variety. At this 
time, Washington was, as his name ever will be, the idol of every 
lover of liberty, and the world were anxious to have a correct lilce- 
ness of him. The Whigs of England were desirous that Stuart 
should come to the United States for this purpose. They had seen 
what were called lilcenesses of this great man, from painters, en- 
gravers, and sculptors, but still were not satisfied ; nothing, as yet, 
had been produced that reached their idea of him. When Stuart 
arrived at the city of Washington, the great man had retired from 
all office, and was in private life at Mount Vernon. He had been 
so often annoyed by every fledgling artist, that he came to the deter- 
mination to sit no more for any one ; but Stuart's fame, and Mrs. 
Washington's solicitations, overruled his resolution, and the hero 
and statesman was again seated for his picture. In the chair for 
the painter, Washington was apt to fall into a train of thought, and 
become abstracted from the things around him, and of course most 
of the likenesses of him, show more of gravity of muscle, than of 
the divinity of intelligence. When he sat to Stuart, as the latter 
has often stated, an apathy seemed to seize him, and a vacuily 
spread over his countenance, most appalling to the painter. The 
best portrait painter of the age, was now to take the likeness of the 
greatest man of all ages ; and the artists and the patriots of all 
countries were interested in it. To have failed in getting a good 
likeness would have been death to the artist's fame, and a perpetual 
source of mortification to the people of the country. Stuart was, 
like Washington, not easily overcome ; he made several fruitless 
attempts to awaken the heroick spirit in him, by talking of battles, 
but in vain ; he next tried to warm up the patriot and sage, by turn- 
ing the conversation to the republican ages of antiquity ; this was 
equally unsuccessful. At length tire painter struck on the master- 
key, and opened a way to his mind which he has so happily trans- 
ferred to the canvass with the features of his face. In the whole 
of this picture, in every limb, as well as feature, the martial air of 
the warrior chief, is admirably mingled with the dignity and 
majesty of the statesman and sage. It was a proper period in the 
life of Washington for a good picture. The bloom and beauty of 
youth have no majesty or greatness in them on the canvass ; ma- 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 195 

lurity and gravity are necessary to give a picture a proper effect ; 
the lines of tliouglit must be in the face 5 the marks of dangers 
braved, and duties done, must be there also. Nor should the 
painter wait until decrepitude and the dullness of age approaches. 
There is a period in the life of man, when Nature seems to stop, 
having matured her work, to contemplate it herself, before she 
suffers Time to begin his ravages. This was that moment. The 
picture, like the original, was peerless. The artist himself copied 
it several times with great success. It has been copied a thousand 
times by others, and every copy contains something of the first 
likeness— no small proof of its excellence and truth. 

Stuart tarried a year or two in the city of Washington, and 
during the time, painted John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, Mr. Madi- 
son, and many other distinguished men of our country. He re- 
moved from Washington to Philadelphia, which was then greatly 
in advance of the other cities and great towns in the United States, 
in every branch of the fine firts. Here, too, he was a favourite in 
society as well as in his profession. He often spoke of his resi- 
dence in Philadelphia with great pleasure, and frequently began 
some of his anecdotes with—" When I resided in the Athens of 
America." His next remove was to Boston, where he resided dur- 
ing the remainder of his life. At first he did not, perhaps, think 
of making this city a permanent residence ; but tliere have never 
been many, who Avere comfortably situated in society there, who 
ever wished to change it for any other place in this country. For 
several years after his coming to Boston, he was overwhelmed with 
business ; many had to wait months for an opportunity of sitting 
to him ; and even in his latter years he frequently had more calls 
than he could answer, notwithstanding a number of painters, quite 
eminent in their profession, had collected in Boston, and were active 
and attentive in their professional pursuits. All, in his line, looked 
up to him as their head, and felt no jealousy of him, for his pre- 
eminence was generally acknowledged. Most of the opulent 
families of Boston have pictures from his pencil ; a house is hardly 
considered as properly furnished, or certainly not complete in its 
ornaments, without some head by Stuart. Although he often ex- 
pressed a strong desire to do something in the historical way to 
leave behind him, yet he never found time for the purpose. In 
some of the back grounds of his portraits, he has sketched some 
emblematick outlines with admirable effect. These sketches go 
far to show what he might have done in the historical line, if he 
had pursued it. 

The number of his portraits is wonderful, and are, in general, 
fine likenesses ; some few are failures : but " Homer sometimes 



196 LECTURES ON 

nods.'''' He had the power of giving the best expression of a face. 
The mind and character of the original seems to breathe from his 
canvass; and if there be a fault in his best pictures, it is, that he some- 
times, in the plentitude of his power in the art, threw a ray of his 
own genius into a countenance in which nature had given no indi- 
cation that she had stolen the fire from heaven to light it up. For 
forty years, or more, he stood at the head of his profession as a 
painter of the human face divine. 

In his person, Stuart was rather large, and his movements, in 
the latter part of his life, were slow and heavy, but not imgraceful. 
His manners had something of the formality of the old school ; 
but it was evident, at the first blush, that he had been conversant 
with good society. He loved to display his powers as a conversa- 
tionist, and to come in friendly collision with intelligence and wit, 
in order to sparkle and shine. He was sometimes a little fastidious 
and eccentrick : but he never lost the manners of a gentleman on 
any occasion. His literary acquirements were of a high order, for 
a professional man, constantly employed ; but his early education 
was good, and the foundations of a classical education were well 
laid. His penetration was acute ; for he saw at a glance the quali- 
ties of the mind of the person who came only to have an image of 
his person struck out. He had often accurately weighed the intel- 
lect of his sitting subject before he had finished the mechanical 
operation of measuring the size of his head. He reasoned upon 
the principles of his profession with a depth of philosophy worthy 
of a master ; and he always contended that a regard should be had 
to the moral as well as physical, in making a just portrait of a man. 
The capacities of his art were aU known to him, and he ridiculed 
the numerous futile attempts to go beyond them. 

The lives and works of the great artists of all ages were familiar 
to him as his pallet. He discoursed upon their excellences, defects, 
and peculiarities, as one who had read and examined them all most 
thoroughly. His eloquence was peculiar and attractive ; his voice 
was strong and deep ; his enunciation clear and distinct ; and his 
countenance came in aid of his voice, for his features were bold and 
lion-like, and no stranger ever passed him without mentally saying, 
" That is no ordinary man." It was a treat to see him in his best 
humour: for he was full of anecdote; and told a story with such 
neatness, precision, point, and elegance of language, that it often 
happened, that those who came to admire his painting, went away 
charmed with his eloquence. By the alchymy of his genius, he dis- 
tilled the essence of every topick of conversation, and gave a spirit 
and flavour to even playfulness and trifling. Titles, wealth, and 
beauty, at whose shrines the world pay their devotions, had no 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 197 

controlling influence over him ; he was too much self-concentrated 
and too full of " the sin for which fell tlie angels," to do homage to 
any thing but commanding talents, and these devoted to letters and 
the arts. He had no respect for those engaged in the ordinary business 
of life ; I mean that respect the world pays, and ought to bestow on 
prudence, economy, calculation, and thrift. Nor was he very much 
disposed to give a great share of praise to those who became distin- 
guished rather by industry than by superior abilities ; he really did, 
or effected to despise all elaborate niceties and painfid finishing, for 
he cared for none of these himself ; not that he was an advocate 
for careless and rapid productions, but he looked for the touches of 
genius, and often remarked that artists of ordinary capacity mistook 
woi'k for study. He thought no man should be found among the 
sons of the prophets, without a good share of the true spirit of in- 
spiration ; and did not hesitate, at times, when the world were 
running after some new artist, to say, with some little bitterness, 
"That man had better have continued his pursuit for his father's 
lost cattle, than to have come among the prophets !" His opinions, 
however, of the works of young men, were, in general, candid, and 
often kind, if the authors were modest and desirous of insti'uction ; 
but upon the pert and impudent, his satire Avas of the keenest sort ; 
it came in all forms, of irony, epigram, and scourge, luitil the dul- 
lest brain was made to understand, and the thickest hide to feel. 
It was seldom that he was roused to resentment ; but, when he was, 
his invective was fierce and terrible. He was too proud to seek 
admiration, but well-timed compliment was not lost on him ; a love 
of it makes up a part of the character of every great artist. 

Fickleness is an ingredient that is frequently mingled with taste 
and refinement. Athens, in her poudest days, gave strange evi- 
dences of this truth ; and the community m which Stuart spent the 
latter part of his days, has, with some justice, been charged with 
it also. But if ever, in the restlessness of caprice, any one re- 
marked that Stuart was growing old ; that his eye had lost some- 
thing of its accurary, and his hand had become tremulous ; or that 
increasing infirmities had made him testy, the people would not 
listen for a moment to any such remarks ; they would not give up 
their favourite. Tliese rumours of the decay of his facidties some- 
times reached the ears of Stuart, and suddenly some great effort of 
his pencil woidd be brought out, that showed at once that the inti- 
mations were groundless, and proved that envy, caprice, or slander, 
had no power over his deep rooted reputation. 

The errours of men of genius — for when were men of genius 
without errours? are generally injurious only to themselves, and 
should be buried with them 5 but their merits should be embalmed 
R 2 



198 LECTURES ON 

by their epitaphs, written by kindred spirits, and engraven on 
monuments and cohimns, and transferred to the page of history, to 
make up a part of their country's glory. Envy and ill nature often 
magnify these errours, and set them down, and con them by heart, 
which, when rightly understood, are only the offspring of irritable 
nerves and delicate fibres ; and should be given over by the moralist 
and biographer, to the consideration of the physician ; for they are 
mostly diseases of a physical nature. 

He was impatient of criticism upon his works, even from the 
choice spirits who surrounded him ; and in the last place of his resi- 
dence, he had not a few of them ; and it is to be presvmied that in 
other cities he had as many. They did not, witli all their taste and 
talents, dare to venture farther than just hint a defect, or an omis- 
sion; and that he never received very graciously, even if his good 
sense induced him to adopt the suggestion. But if ignorant or vain 
patronizing sitters began to criticise, or find fault, he perhaps parried 
the first attempts with a delicate sarcasm, or a sneer, half concealed 
by a smile ; but if this did not operate as an estoppel, and the remarks 
were repeated, he turned upon tliem with that resentful and appal- 
ling directness, that either produced silence or a quarrel. He would 
not bear any flippant connoisseur about him. Numerous instances 
have been related, and many of them believed, of his having resent- 
ed a hasty word from men of the first standing in society, by refus- 
ing to finish a picture, and nothing would ever induce him to touch 
it again. One of these pictures, on which a dandy criticism jiro- 
duced a quarrel, and which is unfinished still, is one of exquisite 
beauty; it is three views of the beautiful face of a celebrated dame, 
who was then just married to a foreign magnate. It is but justice, 
however, to say, that it was not the lady who made the offensive 
remarks, but her dapper husband, who found fault with the drapery. 
" That you can buy," said the indignant artist, " at any milliner's 
shop in the city." This happened while Stuart resided in Wash- 
ington. He contended that no artist should ever submit to these 
vexations ; that they should, one and all, set their faces against them. 
He often remarked, that Haley, who wrote a good deal of tame 
poetry, should be forgiven for all this, and for lavishing so much 
praise on Romney, for the following lines on the painter's evils : 

" For when the canvass, with the mirror's truth, 
Reflects the perfect form of age or youth, 
The fond affections of the partial mind, 
The eye of judgement with delusions blind; 
Each mother bids him brighter tints employ, 
And give more spirit to her booby boy ; 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 199 

Nor can the painter, with his utmost art, 
Express the image in the lover's heart ; 
Unconscious of the change the Seasons bring, 
Autumnal beauty asks the rose of Spring ; 
And vain self-love, in every age the same, 
Will fondly urge some visionary claim ; 
The luckless painter, dcstin'd to submit, 
Mourns the lost likeness, which he once had hit ; 
And, doom'd to groundless censure, bears alone 
The grievous load of eiTours not his own." 



To one who works for gain alone, these things are no evils ; he 
cares nothing for them, but yields to every suggestion ; is a kind 
good man, is admired, gets his fees, and thinks no more of his work, 
nor of its destiny, which, probably, is to hang a while in the par- 
lour, thence to be removed to the garret, and from there pass off to 
oblivion by damps or rats ; but to such a painter as Stuart, who 
fondly hoped, and firmly believed, that he was painthig for unborn 
ages, and that his common pictures would be sought for and valued 
as a Rubens or a Guido, these paltry criticisms were gall and worm- 
wood for the moment, but were never remembered afterwards, or, 
if they Avere, they were only called up, for the amusement of some 
of his friends, in ait hotir of relaxation or merriment. 

The fame of Stuart is secure : no chance can destroy it. His por- 
traits are too numerous, and are too widely scattered, to be lost by 
fire or flood. Some of them will remain under any circumstances ; 
and he has painted many men of distinction, in their day and gene- 
ration, whose reputation will go down to posterity with his. Tliere 
is a sort of tacit contract between a great man in the literary, pohti- 
cal, or scientifick world, and his painter, if he, too, be distinguished, 
to join hand and hand, and present themselves to future ages to- 
gether. On Stuart's paintings, his contemporaries have given a 
verdict, and it is on record, ^'■tliat his likenesses are adviirable ;" 
and other times shall pronounce them fine paintings. He has not 
wasted his strength on dress and drapery, which is often admired 
by those it was intended to please or flatter, and in the course of a 
generation or two, is a subject of amusement to the descendants of 
the stately dame they adorn or encumber. They laugh at the niceties 
of ruff" or stomacher, which cost weeks of labour to artists. Stuart 
wisely brought all his talents, and all the powers of his art, to bear upon 
the human cotmtenance, which, amidst all the varieties of the race 
of man, in every climate, and every age of the world, still wears the 
image of his Maker. The seal which gave assurance of a man has 
never been broken or effaced. It was not that Stuart wanted the 



200 LECTURES ON 

art of painting most excellent drapery. In the picture of Wash- 
ington, painted for the artist's native state, and which adorns their 
hall of legislation, the drapery, furnitin-e, and accompaniments, are 
considered superiour to the figure of Washington itself, which is one 
of Stuart's best paintings. He was wise in one other respect. He 
painted with permanent colours. If they were not so beautiful at 
first sight, as the deijcate lakes and carmines, they were put on with 
a full faith in their durability. He seldom or never spoke of liis 
colours without alluding to the melancholy fact, that most of Sir 
Joshua's paintings had faded, and were now out of sight. 

It is often asked, of what school was your great painter ? He would 
acknowledge no master ; but if what the ancients have told us of 
Parrhasius and Aristides be true, he had much of their manner and 
spirit, and no small share of the former's self-esteem. Most certainly 
he had nothing of the present Italian or French schools in his com- 
positions. Himself, his works, his taste, his conversation, his tone, 
were all masculine ; so deeply masculine, that, in but a very few 
instances, did he ever succeed in making a fine picture of a great 
beauty. The character of so great an artist deserves a minute bio- 
graphy ; but this is not within the plan of my work. It is said that 
the artists are about to erect a monument to his memory. If this 
be done, may some learned and tasteful brother — Trumbull, Alston, 
or some other one who knew him well — write his epitaph, in the 
spirit of admiring truth ; and make his biography a portrait that 
may bear to be placed in the Temple of Taste, along side the pro- 
ductions of his pencil. He died at the advanced age of seventy-four, 
in the fidl possession of his faculties. 

As a miniature painter, the reputation of Edward G. Malbone, 
formerly of Newport, Rhode Island, stands first of all who have 
come forward in this line of the art. I had prepared a short me- 
moir of the early history of his life, from the best sources in my 
power to command ; but, on receiving some facts of his rise and 
progress in his profession, from a literary gentleman of Newport, 
which, from his character, and from the means he had of obtaining 
them, cannot fail to be interesting to all ; for they come, as it were, 
from the nursery, and the school-room, and the mansion house, 
with the stamp of genuineness on them. But as I shall reserve this 
for some more ample page, I will make a few observations on an 
artist, who was the first that ever gave me the slightest taste for 
the delicate touches of the miniature painter. It has generally 
been considered, that miniature painting was of an order less, in 
the scale of genius, than portrait painting. It has been said to com- 
pare with it, as the sonnet does with the ode ; but I could never see 
the force of the remark ; why it should not require as much taste 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 201 

and genius to paint a picture " in little," as in great, I cannot un- 
derstand. The image of the original must be as accurately caught, 
and as faithfully delineated ; the touch must be more nice, and the 
tints more delicate; a susceptibility of the beautiful and the re- 
fined must be more requisite in the miniature than the portrait or 
historical painter ; and it is necessary that he should study nature 
more minutely ; the exquisite tints of the flower or the pebble are 
to be examined by him witli an intensity that cannot be required in 
one who sweeps with his eye the rude crag and lofty mountain, 
and catches the bold features of romantick scenery ; nor of one who 
paints a full sized man. It has been said to be a rule of nature, to 
send taste to reside with beauty, or at least to allow him to learn 
his first lessons where she is to be found ; and the history of Mal- 
bone is in accordance with this principle ; for the shores of Greece 
never presented more beautiful subjects for the pencil than those 
on which the artist first opened his eyes ; and he has done honour 
to his birth place, for perhaps there never was an artist, certainly 
never one so little acquainted with the rules of art, who gave such 
ethereal touches to his paintings as Malbone. With the most exact 
likenesses, he seemed to avoid all the coarse, earthly particles in 
his subjects, leaving only enough of matter to express the intellec- 
tual spirit and character they contained. Malbone's mind, like a 
fine piece of wax, seemed first to take the impression of that which 
he was to transfer to the ivory ; and then it was found there, co- 
loured by nature in her loveliest manner. The early part of Mal- 
bone's education could not be considered profound or classical, but 
such were his habits of critical observation, and close attention to 
study, that he was soon distinguished for his intellectual acquire- 
ments. He perhaps dwelt too much on the refined portions of 
knowledge to make a robust mind ; but there is more power in a 
delicate one than is generally imagined ; as one bred in the bowers 
of learning, may be as lofty and commanding as one accustomed to 
the toils of the chase or war. He was much admired in society ; for 
his conversation was rich and refined, and it never failed to charm, 
his life being as pure as his taste. He had seen too much of men to 
be bigoted or vain ; and he polished his own by the manners of all; 
but copied none. 

Malbone was unfortunate, at times, in his colours, although he 
made many chemical attempts to improve the old colouring ; 
and it is to be deeply regretted, that in some of his finest minia- 
tures, a winding-sheet resemblance is all that remains of her who 
was once as beautiful as an angel. Other paintings of his may 
have been more lasting than those I have seen. The touches of 
the finest pencil, in these fading colours, are but little better than 

26 



202 LECTURES ON 

the words of the orator who gives his eloquence to Echo, and tnists 
to the remembrance of that alone for immortality. He lived before 
the time had fairly come for the just appreciation of such talents. 
The generation that achieved the revolution, had enough to do to 
fight it out, and in repairing their fortunes after the conflict was 
over ; they and their children were busy in fixing every constitu- 
tional principle, and guarding their rights by every form of law ; 
and those who were not directly engaged, were pursuing commerce 
and agi'iculture, and laying the foundation of manufactures ; there- 
fore, there were but few who could justly appreciate such a delicate 
artist as Malbone. 

Another artist of some celebrity in his time, was Edward Savage. 
Feeling the inspiration of a painter in his native land, he procured 
means and went abroad, and put himself for a while under the di- 
rection of West, and travelled into Italy. Before he left this coun- 
try he had painted the Washington family, which, as a print, is now 
found in every part of this country. Finding no person willing, or 
sufficiently at leisure, to undertake the engraving of this picture, he 
took up the graver himself, and made a very respectable work of it, 
for that age, when there were but few good engravings published 
in London. Those who knew Savage always spoke of him as a 
man of diversified talents and great industry ; but he divided his 
time among so many things, that he could not do himself justice in 
any one of them ; yet he did all he undertook to do much better 
than could be expected of one engaged in so many matters of taste 
and art. He commenced a museum first in New-York, and then 
brought it to Boston ; and it is the same which now forms a part 
of that extensive collection, the New-England Museum. He died 
in retirement, having devoted his latter days to agricultural pur- 
suits. 

Col. John Trumbull, who is now living, was the contemporary 
of Stuart and Johnson, an acquaintance of Copley's, and a student 
with West. His life has been more full of incident, than his bro- 
ther artists', for he has been soldier, politician, and traveller, as 
well as painter. In him the love of his art Avas early developed. 
It began in the nursery ; and before he was prepared to enter col- 
lege he had painted several pictures ; and while at Cambridge, in 
his leisure moments, he indulged himself in painting. Some of 
these efforts, before he had received a single lesson, were seen by 
Copley, who bestowed upon them a cordial smile of approbation. 
He then had but a faint expectation of making the art his main 
pursuit. After leaving college in 1773, still quite young, he went 
to his father's house in Connecticut, and was there employed in 
the acquirement of general knowledge, and meditating on his fu- 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 203 

ture course in life. Tlie limes were then difficult. Tlie political 
storms were gathering rapidly, and the learned professions pro- 
mised but little. A belief that an appeal to arms would be neces- 
sary, induced all the citizens to be active in getting a knowledge 
of their use, and they turned their eyes every way for instructers 
in the art of war. Trumbull, like Knox, Brooks, Hamilton, and 
many other spirited young men, had turned his attention to the 
study of the elements of military tacticks, and was greatly in ad- 
vance of his fellow-citizens in general, in this branch of informa- 
tion ; and on his joining a train-band, they made him an officer, and 
he began his driU ; and in June, 1775, he was found a Brigade 
Major in the Connecticut line, at the seat of war, discharging his 
duty. During that suinmer he was under the eye of Washington, 
who promoted him, for his talents, to be his aid, the second he had 
appointed; Mifflin had come on in that capacity from Pennsylvania 
with him. In the fall of 1776, he was appointed adjutant-general of 
the northern army. In this capacity he acted until the autumn of 
1777, with great credit to himself, and advantage to the army, in bring- 
ing the raw recruits, then pouring in at the north, to a tolerable 
state of discipline. While in this office, he thought himself super- 
seded, which his pride could not brook, and he resigned his com- 
mission and returned to his native state. Still the professions held 
out no alluring prospect, and he made up his mind to become an 
artist. 

As soon as this determination was fixed, he made his way to 
England, to place himself imder the guidance and instruction of his 
countryman, Mr. West, then at the head of the artists in England. 
Here he had sheathed his sword, and shut his ears to all political 
strife, and was advancing his knowledge in tlie bosom of the arts; 
his love of country was neither destroyed or abated, but every thing 
justified, yea, required his silence ; and in quiet he was going on, 
when, at the close of 1780, the news reached England that Andre 
was taken and executed. The ministers received the news in a 
paroxysm of rage, and the first impression on their minds was re- 
venge. They had received an intimation that the young American 
gentleman, under the instruction of Mr. West, had held, in the 
American army, a rank similar to that of Andre in the British. 
This was enough ; an order was issued to seize Col. Trumbull and 
confine him to the tower, on the principle of the lex talionis. He 
was then brought before a board of commissioners for an examina- 
tion, in order to obtain all the facts in the case. The youthful officer 
bore himself proudly before them ; but freely stated to them the 
whole course of his military life ; and the causes of his leaving it ; 
avowed his unceasing attachment to his country, with a full belief 



204 LECTURES ON 

of her success in the struggle ; and urged, yea, dared them to an 
immediate trial. He gave them also to understand, that his father 
was at that time governor of the state of Connecticut, and had seve- 
ral hundred prisoners under his charge ; all these would be con- 
sidered as hostages for his safety. This fearless course was rather 
troublesome to the premier ; he wished to allay the publick ferment, 
and yet did not venture to put in jeopardy the lives of innocent 
men, who might be in the hands of the Americans as prisoners. 
No preparations were made for bringing Trumbull to trial, although 
he demanded it as often as he could. A considerable portion of the 
British nation considered his fate as sealed, and his death as certain. 
After a while he was removed to more comfortable quarters, but as 
securely confined. During his imprisonment. Fox, Burke, and the 
leaders of the opposition, often visited him, but gave no decided 
opinions on the course the ministry would pursue. At length it 
was agreed that Burke should have an interview with Lord North. 
Burke could always approach North, even in the bitterest moments 
of party strife. They were both gentlemen and scholars, and these 
characters, towards each other, they never forgot After this inter- 
view, Trumbull was released on bail ; but an order instantly fol- 
lowed for his departure forthwith. He went to France, and from 
thence returned to America. During this difficulty, West was the 
warm and unshaken friend of his pupil, and proved to him that his 
virtues were as exalted as his talents, that his heart was as true and 
steady as his hand. Col. Trumbull returned to England after the 
peace of 1783, and was most graciously received by his old friends, 
and patronized by them in his profession. During this visit he 
painted the sortie of Gibraltar ; a production which Horace 
Walpole pronounced the best that had ever been executed this side 
the Alps, 

After this period, for some years, Col, Trumbull was engaged in 
political life ; first as secretary of legation to Mr. Jay, when he made 
his treaty with Great Britain ; and afterwards as one of the com- 
missioners under that treaty with Mr, Gore and Pinckney, on the 
part of the United States. Up to this period, and afterwards, before 
he returned to the United States, several productions from his pencil 
attracted the notice of the publick, and added to his reputation as an 
artist, on this and on the other side of the water. But his political 
life, and the details of his professional career, must be left to the bio- 
grapher ; they are too voluminous for our lectures ; but it is proper 
for me to notice the labours of Col. Trumbull that are now in the 
possession of the nation, for they are identified with our history and 
his fame. The first of these pictures is the Declaration of in- 
dependence. This as well as the other three are purely historical ; 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 20S 

there is no fiction in their composition. The canvass is large, and 
the group numerous, forty-seven in number. It was a difficult sub- 
ject for tlie pencil. It was, in a measure, a still life scene, solemn 
and quiet — minds intent upon a great subject, but it was the same 
to nearly all ; for it was no triumph of party, but the determination 
and decision of nearly the whole group. Those who doubted were 
equally anxious as patriots; but only questioned the expediency of 
the measure at that moment. Decision is marked in every counte- 
nance, and high-souled resolve is delineated in every feature. The 
demeanour of the whole is unique, and the subsequent events have 
given it the cast of political consequence it has now assumed. It 
was only a bold and noble act then ; it is now a god-like one. In this 
picture most of the likenesses were from life, and of course a great 
many of the portraits of that augiist body have been preserved, which 
could not otherwise have been effected ; for no one had enthusiasm 
sufficient to set about making a gallery of them at that time. Most 
of tliem, yea, all of them, witli only one exception, have gone down 
to join the congregation of the dead since that period ; and he stands 
majestick in the lonely waste of ages. This picture has been often 
criticised ; but, like the rest of them, the more it is examined the 
more it has been admired. 

The surrender of the army under the command of Lieutenant Ge- 
neral Burgoyne, has a martial air. It was intended by the painter to 
have such an effect. Thepomp, pride, and circumstance ofivar, were 
thrown into it, for it was an eventful day to the colonies. The solemn, 
suppressed elevation of the spirits of the conquerors, the steadfast gaze 
of ^^ young- eyed wonder ;''"' for there were in that army but few who 
had seen service before, and none perhaps who had seen the surrender 
of an army, particularly a British army ; certainly none who had seen 
60 important a one. The autumnal sky, the sear and yellow leaf, 
is exhibited as it should be, in this painting. The likenesses of these 
heroes are faithful ; so very true, that an old soldier, examining this 
picture, in the winter of eighteen hundred and twenty-seven, pointed 
out eleven faces which he knew, most of whom he had not seen 
since that period, a lapse of nearly half a century. This speaks a 
volume in favour of the truth of the picture. The number of figures 
in the foreground is less than in the picture of signing the declara- 
tion of independence, being only twenty-seven in number ; but in 
the distant view the troops of either army is seen, and this gives 
great relief to the whole. The crest-fallen countenance of Bur- 
goyne is very conspicuous. The group is not crowded, and 
there seems space enough for all that was transacted at this impor- 
tant crisis. 

The taking of Cornwallis is of a similar character, but is 
S 



206 LECTURES ON 

managed by the painter so as to appear quite unlike. This picture 
is more easily read than the other, and there is no point about it 
that can be mistaken, without the slightest reference to the expla- 
natory account, excepting a few of the names of the French, and a 
few of the American officers, whose countenances were not suffi- 
ciently kno\vn to be readily named. The discipline of the American 
troops, which surprised and astonished the English general, is ad- 
mirably seen in this picture. Many of the American army were 
then veterans in war, and they showed Earl Cornwallis that against 
such troops it would be in vain for the king his master to contend 
any longer. There are thirty-four large figures in this picture, and 
a fine background, exhibiting the British forces marching between 
two lines of the victorious army to lay down their arms. A greater 
number of that noble animal, the horse, were introduced than in the 
picture of the taking of Burgoyne, which to many gives it more of a 
military air. Many of the likenesses in this picture are also admi- 
rable. This was the closing scene of the revolutionary war. 

Washington resigning his Commission to Congress, is 
the last of the four great pictures the property of the United States,, 
and is, pei-haps, to most spectators, the most interesting of the whole, 
rather, however, from its moral than natural sublimity. A warrior 
in the prime of manhood, on Avhom the glow of manly beauty was 
still to be seen ; who had accepted tlie command of an undisciplined 
army, in every way unprepared for war, which had nothing but the 
justice of their cause, and an indomitable courage to support it ; and 
who, after enduring with them every hardship and privation, had 
now hastened to resign his commission, without rewards or stipu- 
lations of honours from his coinitrymen, was a scene unparalleled 
in the history of nations. This scene exliibited the greatness of the 
patriot, free from the vulgar ambition of the military chieftain ; a 
triumphal car, or an ovation, decreed by his country, would have 
diminished the effect of this solemn unostentatious ceremony, 
which deserves to be handed down to the latest posterity, to show 
how much above the level of ordinary greatness was the leader 
of our armies in those perilous times. It is of importance to us 
to retain the likenesses of some of this congress, which had then 
become a small and feeble body, but still contained some excellent 
men ; but it is more important to preserve an accurate likeness of 
General Washington, which this is said to be, by those who knew 
him at that period of life. Stuart's picture of him was painted 
several years afterwards, when a portion of the soldier was lost in 
the statesman. Trumbull's was taken when Washington was un- 
harnessing from the fight, and the chivalrous spirit of the warrior 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 207 

was in every word and look. This likeness should be often copied 
for those who wish to preserve his lineaments as a soldier. 

It is to be deeply regretted that the opportunity of extending the 
number of the remembrances of historical events, arising out of our 
struggle for independence, should have been suffered to escape us. 
We have only a third part of those which might have been obtained 
and kept as rich memorials of that age. The veteran from whose 
pencil we have had these four pictures, was obliged to end his la- 
bours from false notions of economy arising up among our national 
representatives, while his eye had not lost its accuracy, nor his hand 
its steadiness. A youtli of prudence has given him a vigorous old 
age. Col. Trumbull is not only at the head of the historical painters 
in this country, but is among our most accomplished gentlemen 
and scholars. A fine early education, improved by travel, and 
with more than half a century's intimate acquaintance with the 
most polished and enlightened minds in Europe and America, 
have enriched his imderstanding with vast stores of knowledge 
upon almost every subject, have given to his manners ease and 
grace, and to his style of conversation a charm and finish, that make 
him the delight of all circles of fashion and taste in our country. 
He connects the former with the present age, and is an honour to 
both. 

New institutions, it is said, develope new talents, or awaken those 
which have lain dormant. The militia of the United States, which 
was organized soon after the adoption of the Federal Constitution, 
and which in some parts of the country grew up at once into a for- 
midable body of well disciplined men, who were fond of every mili- 
tary appendage, and prided themselves on their standards, every 
company having a right to one. An emulation soon arose in the 
militia, for those of great splendour and taste. The custom of carry- 
ing a waving standard, made of silk or light stuff, was of eastern 
origin. It is said that the custom Avas drawn from the standard of 
Mahomet, which was the turban of a convert chieftain, who, on 
espousing the prophet's cause, fixed it, on an emergency, to the 
head of his lance, and unfurled it to the breeze. The standards of 
the christian warriors were of a different appearance. Those of 
the crusaders were small and square, and drawn tight over a frame. 
The waving ensigns were first adopted by the maritime nations of 
Europe, from the mussulmans',as being far more beautiful, and more 
easily managed, than others ; and then they came into use among 
the military forces of the same nations. We took our colours from 
England ; but with true characteristick ambition, we have given it 
a more magnificent expansion ; we were not confined by tlie laws 
of any herald office. The Garter of Arms had nothing to do 



208 LECTURES ON 

with our northern or southern ridings ; we had no fees to pay for 
armorial bearings, and no fears of forfeitures for trespass on ano- 
ther's rights, or assumption of what was not our own. The inde- 
pendent corps, as those wlio have certain privileges, liave been 
called with us, took great pains to appear, not only " completely 
armed and equipt, as the law directs," but also to support a most 
splendid uniform, and other imposing appendages. A superb ban- 
ner was therefore indispensably necessary ; — to effect this, they em- 
ployed painters of taste, whenever they could be found, to design 
and paint them. Among the first painters in this branch was John- 
son, whose talents we have spoken of in a preceding part of this 
lecture ; but after a few years he was surpassed by Penniman. He 
has brought this style of painting to very great perfection. His de- 
signs are often classical and ingenious, and frequently have an ap- 
propriate bearing upon the name of the corps, or on some circum- 
stance of its history. The fashion has been prevalent for young 
ladies to present these standards to military companies, with patri- 
otick addresses, and eloquent prayers for the prosperity and success 
of the brave defenders of the country ; and if but few opportunities 
have been found for the youthful soldier to fulfil his promise to the 
fair — that he never would prove a recreant — not one particle of the 
admiration bestowed on the beauty and elegance of the standard 
was lost on the artist who painted it ; he became freshly inspired 
by the smile of beauty, and the publick admiration. 

Engraving is a sister art to painting, and follows her in every age. 
Tliis art has grown up among us with astonishing rapidity. Thirty 
years since, there were not more than half a dozen engravers in the 
United States, and these of a secondary order, as their works in our 
periodicals of that age will show ; but since Bradford published the 
Encyclopedia, the art has been cultivated with zeal in the United 
States J and there are now to be found a very considerable number 
of engravers, whose works are admirable, and are held in high esti- 
mation. A taste for fine engravings is extending far and wide in 
our country, and patronage makes artists. 

Sculpture is now attracting the attention of some of our young 
men of talents, who have produced some fine specimens of the art. 
They will find encouragement, for there are every day exhibited 
new proofs of the partiahty of the opulent in this country for this 
branch of the fine arts. 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 209 



LECTURE XII. 



But, then, it must be remembered, that these men were bred and edu- 
cated in the principles of a free government. 'Twas hence they derived 
that hig-h and manly spirit, which made them the admiration of after ages. 

Harris's Hermes. 

'Tis Liberty, that is formed to nurse the sentiments of great geniuses : to 
inspire them with hope, to push forward the propensity of contest, one with 
another, and the generous emulation of being the first in rank. 

LONGINUS. 

A good orator should pierce the ear, allure the eye, and invade the mind 
of his hearer. 

Words are not all, nor matter is not all, nor gestures ; yet together they 
are. 'Tis most moving in an orator, when the soul seems to speak as well 
as the tongue. 

Surely, nothing decks an orator more, than a judgement, able to conceive 
and utter. 

The scriptures are penned in a tongue of deep expression ; wherein 
almost every word hath a metaphorical sense, which does illustrate by some 
allusion. 

Nor is it such a fault as some make it, now and then to let a philosopher 
or a poet come in and wait, and give a trencher to this banquet of eloquence. 
St. Paul is a precedent for it. 

I never knew a good tongue, that wanted ears to hear it. 

I will honour sacred eloquence in her plain trim ; but I wish to meet her 
in her graceful jewels, not that they give addition to her goodness, but that 
she is more persuasive in working on the soul she meets with. 

Owen Peltham, on Pulpit Oratory. 

Ever since the Almighty gave to man the faculty of speech, he 
has been proud of using the prerogative well. In every age, to 
speak well has been thought to be one of the highest human ac- 
complishments, as well as necessary instrument, in gaining and 
sustaining power and authority. It has led to the direction of the 
affairs of nations, and to the establishment of creeds in philosophy 
and religion. The great lawgiver of Israel felt and avowed the 
want of eloquence in undertaking his divine legation. 

" And Moses said unto the Lord, O my Lord, I am not eloquent, 
neither heretofore, nor since thou hast spoken unto thy servant : but 
I am slow of speech, and of a slow tongue. 
S2 37 



210 LECTURES ON 

" And the Lord said unto him, "Who hath made man's mouth ? 
or who maketh the dumb, or deaf, or the seeing, or the blind ? 
have not I the Lord ? 

" Now therefore go, and I will be with thy mouth, and teach thee 
Avhat thou shalt say. 

" And he said, O my Lord, send, I pray thee, by the hand of him 
whom thou wilt send. 

" And the anger of the Lord was kindled against Moses, and he 
said. Is not Aaron the Levite thy brother ? I know that he can 
speak well. And also, behold, he cometh forth to meet thee, he 
seeth thee, he will be glad in his heart. 

" And thou shalt speak unto him, and put words in his mouth : 
and I will be with thy mouth, and with his mouth, and will teach 
you what ye shall do. 

" And he shall be thy spokesman unto the people : and he shall 
be, even he shall be to thee instead of a mouth, and thou shalt be 
to him instead of God." 

The first efforts of poetick inspiration were those that gave im- 
mortality to eloquence. The different kinds of speakers are de- 
scribed by Homer with a precision and beauty that has never been 
surpassed ; like the productions of the Grecian chisel, they remain 
as models to this day. All religions have been promulgated and 
supported by eloquence ; even ours, which descended from heaven, 
was preached with tongues of fire, the miraculous gift of its author. 
Error has been propagated by eloquence ; Mahomet was the most 
eloquent man of his race, and composed his Koran in the choicest 
verses of a lovely literature. 

A passion for eloquence is not confined to civilized man. The 
sons of the forest are as fond of it as the best cultivated minds in 
polished life. Indian history is full of the passion for eloquence. 
The speech of Logan is only a common specimen of their capacity 
for high attainments in the noble art. 

When the Winnebagoes had a deputation at the seat of govern- 
ment last year, the interview between them and the President of 
the United States was conducted with great ceremony. After sit- 
ting a while in the audience chamber, the most aged chief, then 
ninety years old, bald headed, with his manly arms and chest 
bare, arose and advanced to the president ; in a few words he 
stated the object of his visit, and his happiness in finding the great 
father of his people so kind and good, but should speak but little, 
but leave the details and exemplifications of the mission they 
were sent on, to the orator of the tribe. The aged chief retired 
with great dignity ; the signal given, the orator advanced ; he was 
of fine size and noble proportions. He stood an almost naked 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 211 

bust, and extending his arm, said, that he was not a chief by birth, 
but was made one by the fame of his talents, and by the power of 
his eloquence. He was a warrior who had never committed a 
crime, nor sunk to any meanness, or ever told a falsehood. His 
whole demeanour was full of grave dignity, and solemn serenity. 
After this interview, even the aged chief, who had kept sober before, 
joined in a most riotous, drunken frolick, while the speaker kept 
himself from the errors of his brethren, and retired from the scene, 
to preserve the honours of a Winnebago orator. 

Eloquence was the great engine by which Tecumseh rose to 
power. He was one of three brothers at a birth. The Indians of 
his native tribe, as well as those of most other tribes, have a super- 
stitious dread of such prolifick mothers. They consider more 
than one at a birth as an omen of famine, and the mother with her 
children are banished ; but by a wise direction of providence, the 
evil is in some degree neutralized by the impression on the savage 
mind, that the tribe who receive the fugitives will prosper for their 
kindness. The three boys were brought up together, and were 
most affectionate to each other ; being strangers, as it were, among 
those with whom they lived, made them unite most closely in all 
their plans. One of them fell in an attack at Nashville. Tecum- 
seh tried his powers as an orator, and succeeded most admirably ; 
his brother had not the natural gifts for one, or it was not politick 
to have two orators in one tribe, still he must do something for 
family aggrandizement ; and with a most admirable reach of 
thought, Tecumseh made him a prophet, and was among the 
first who professed to believe in his inspirations ; he preached them 
every where, seemed to be guided by them, and keeping the pro- 
phet as much veiled as possible, promulgated, himself, the wonders 
of coming time ; only, however, as a mouth piece. It succeeded to 
a charm, indeed. It was Indian eloquence that gave Indian pro- 
phecy its influence ; for it has degenerated to mummery since that 
eloquence has ceased. By eloquence this mighty savage collected 
his followers and made them steadfast friends, who were ready to 
pour out their blood at his command. By his eloquence he made 
those of different tribes, naturally jealous of each other, partizans 
warriors, devotees, or whatever he pleased. There was a charm 
about this orator of the wilderness that Demosthenes and Cicero 
never had ; he was as brave as eloquent, as mighty in deeds as in 
words. The bravery of the great orators of antiquity, has been 
questioned, and they laid no claim to a double portion of the Win- 
nebagoe's veracity. 

Eloquence is almost as various in its character as personal ap- 
pearance ; yet so many of its striking points are general, that we 



213 LECTURES ON 

can describe it by considering a few classes of orators. The first 
of these orders of eloquence, and the most charming of all of them, 
may be called social eloquence ; that which is under the patronage 
of the household gods; the eloquence of the fireside, and the draw- 
ing-room ; all that belongs to the charities and pleasant associations 
of life. The language of ordinary instruction; of joyous festivity; 
of gayety ; of reproof, anger, and of love itself, belongs to this order. 
It is more practised than studied ; and has more influence over the 
affairs of men than all the other kinds put together ; but it is so 
unambitious in its forms, that we are not aware of its force, or 
elegance. There is no hour that it is not wanted, and every little 
domestic circumstance requires it. It sweetens the morning be- 
verage, and spices the evening posset ; it sparkles in every glass, 
and beams from every eye ; and if it cannot turn water to wine, as 
in the miracle, it can give to wine, as it is poured into the cup, a 
Falernian ripeness, that a voyage romid the world would not effect. 

The next class is the lowest order of puhlick speaking; and is 
the most common, and, in most things of a publick nature, is indis- 
pensable. It consists in the capacity and skill of arranging one's 
thoughts in a fair manner; and of spreading them in good language 
before an audience. This grade of elocution is found in the courts 
of justice, the halls of legislation, and in all publick business places. 
It is as much as a great proportion of publick speakers aspire to, 
and perhaps as much as most of them could attain in the ordinary 
pursuits of life. 

The next grade is the former, with the additional power of ex- 
citing more than an ordinary interest in the subject under discus- 
sion, by happy arrangement, earnest delivery, with the power of 
now and then striking a chord of the heart with a master hand, or 
throwing a flash of unexpected light upon every listener, and 
adding to all this a striking ingenuity in evading difficulties, and 
seizing favourable opportunities of impressing important points. 
A knowledge of human nature is a necessary ingredient in this 
order of eloquence. Men are creatures of feeling, passion, preju- 
dice, and caprice, as well as of reason and of judgement, and must 
be studied to be controlled or influenced by the publick speaker. 
Every portion of our country is blessed by the possession of such 
men, who hold a commanding station in society ; and particularly 
if they have added to this grade of eloquence, moral virtue and 
high intellectual acquirements; and the very possession of this 
talent presupposes a highly respectable advancement in the various 
branches of knowledge. This class of speakers take the lead in all 
ordinary business in the courts of justice, and in deliberative bodies. 
In all our state legislatures some dozen or two of these men may 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 213 

be seen, visit them when you will, full of matter, and one or more 
of them you will find engaged in the courts in every important 
cause of litigation. These are what our fathers used to call '■'■good 
comvionwealih''s men ;" for business is safe in their hands. They 
are too intelligent for demagogues or dupes, and are not often 
inordinately ambitious. The lesser men are those who run the 
scrub race of popularity, and jostle each other from the course, 
assuming much consequence, but possessing little merit. 

The last and highest order of eloquence is susceptible of many 
subdivisions ; more, perhaps, than the inferior grades ; but it must 
contain all that is valuable in those inferior grades, with a greater 
grasp of thought and more ample stores of knowledge. This high 
and commanding power is inconsistent with petty views and ab- 
sorbing selfishness. To give it all its influence, there must be some- 
thing in it of the apostle's parity and the prophet's fire. It is 
confined to no place, nor to any class of men. It blazes in the pul- 
pit and illumines the court room, but it is not confined to them or 
to the halls of legislation. The true orator wants not place to 
give him inspiration; wherever he moves, the oracle goes with 
him. A stone or stump will answer for a tripod, and to him the 
common air is full of Delphick incense. 

There can be no lack of opportunity for acquiring and displaying 
eloquence in this country. There are in the United States twenty- 
four state legislatures, consisting of more than one hmadred and 
fifty members to each body, on an average. These deliberative 
assemblies are in session for more than two months in each year, 
and engaged in matters of consequence to the publick ; in softening 
the hard features of the common law, or providing for internal 
improvements, chartering banks, or creating other corporations for 
publick institutions, guided by private individuals. Many of these 
subjects create warm debates, for pecuniary interest is quite as wide 
awake as ambition, and often something of both is found in such 
discussions ; local policy and private interest often give a piquancy 
and spirit to publick speaking, that no general impressions of duty 
can give. 

Our civil and criminal tribunals are so many forums of eloquence, 
and much business is done in them. There are at least thirty thou- 
sand verdicts of juries returned yearly in all our courts, and many 
of them involve matters of deep interest, either of a publick or 
private nature ; and when to these are added all the other opportu- 
nities in equity, arbitrations, «Scc., what excuse have we for not ma- 
king good speakers 1 And these are not the only schools of elo- 
quence, for there is not a cattle show had, or a bridge built, but 
affords a chance for a speech or two. Meetings for political pur- 



214 LECTURES ON 

poses are constantly convened for the selection of candidates for 
state assemblies or Congress, and harangues are made on these 
occasions without stint. Charity, too, has her train of orators, 
and her style of elocution, she strikes the chords of the heart with 
an hundred hands, and sometimes " creates a soul under the r-ibs 
of death." 

Her sister. Religion, besides her half million sermons and lectures 
each revolving year, at the altar, has also her numerous associa- 
tions for diffusing light and knowledge, which call forth some ex- 
quisite strains of eloquence. 

It is a great mistake to judge of American eloquence, altogether, 
from the speakers in Congress ; but most foreigners seem to think 
that in that body is concentrated all the knowledge and eloquence 
of the country. Congress, undoubtedly, has its share of good 
speakers, but no monopoly of them. 

It has often been remarked in England, that the literary men 
who visit the house of lords or commons but occasionally, are 
disappointed in the eloquence of the speakers. It is so with those 
who, from abroad, or from various parts of our country, visit Wash- 
ington to hear the debates in Congress. This is very natural, for 
they can seldom give a rational account of their anticipations ; for 
distance, the imposing nature of a national legislature, and the recol- 
lection of the great men who flourished in that body, and some 
knowledge of the gi'eat men who are now members of it, fill the 
mind with lofty but undefined impressions respecting the eloquence 
of such an assembly. But we must look at this body closely to get 
at the truth; a single glance will mislead us ; we must look at it in 
its elements. To take any ordinary day's business for a criterion 
of talent in Congress, would be egregiously wrong. The slovenly 
and careless air of some would mislead, and the great zeal of others, 
personally interested, could hardly be accounted for upon any 
principle of patriotism. There is a greater diversity of interests 
than of minds in such a body, and to judge of them fairly, one 
must be thoroughly acquainted with them, and also with the course 
of business. To reason correctly upon our national legislature, 
we must go to the elements of which it is composed. It has been 
called the great Amphyctionick council; but the parallel runs 
but a little way. It was not modelled on it, but decidedly on the 
British Parliament, and is governed by the fundamental rules of 
that body. 

Forty years only have elapsed since the adoption of the federal 
constitution. There were then but thirteen states to form a com- 
pact ; there are now twenty-four in it. In these forty years there 
have been in both branches of the national legislature, seventeen 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 215 

hundred and twenty-two members; twelve hundred and eighty- 
seven of them in the house of representatives, from tlie old states, 
and one hundred and seventy-nine from the new states without 
the limits of the old territory ; two hundred and thirty-seven sena- 
tors of the old states, and seventy-nine from the new ones, making, 
in the whole, the first mentioned number of seventeen hundred and 
seventy-two. Perhaps it would be gratifying to some to see the 
numbers belonging to the several states : Maine has had, to the 
close of the nineteenth Congress, fourteen representatives, and two 
senators; New-Hampshire fifty-eight representatives, and seven- 
teen senators; Vermont, forty-five representatives, and fourteen 
senators ; Massachusetts, one hundred and forty-three representa- 
tives, and nineteen senators ; Rhode Island, nineteen representatives, 
and seventeen senators ; Connecticut, fifty-five representatives, and 
fourteen senators; New- York, two hundred and fifty-five represen- 
tatives, and twenty-one senators ; New-Jersey, fifty-four represen- 
tatives, and nineteen senators; Pennsylvania, one hundred and 
seventy-five representatives, and fifteen senators ; Delaware, fifteen 
representatives, and seventeen senators ; Maryland, eighty-five re- 
presentatives, and seventeen senators ; Virginia, one hundred and 
forty-six representatives, and twenty-two senators ; North Carolina, 
one hundred and two representatives, and twelve senators ; South 
Carolina, seventy-six representatives, and thirteen senators ; Geor- 
gia, forty-five representatives, and twenty senators ; Kentucky, six- 
ty representatives, and twenty senators; Tennessee, thirty-eight 
representatives, and eighteen senators ; Ohio, thirty-six representa- 
tives, and thirteen senators ; Louisiana, six representatives, and nine 
senators; Ilhnois, five representatives, and four senators; Missis- 
sippi, seven representatives, and five senators ; Missouri, five rep- 
resentatives, and two senators ; Indiana, nine representatives, and 
four senators ; Alabama, four representatives, and five senators. 
There have been nine delegates from the several territories. Some 
few have been counted twice in the foregoing estimation, when 
they had come to Congress the second time, after an interval of 
years. These, probably, are not so many as there were new ones 
returned for the twentieth Congress. All these have had a hand 
in making our code of laws, which has grown up within the last 
forty years. This body has contained, in the worst of times, a very 
considerable number of men of talents and integrity, who have 
laboured for their country's weal. But a small portion of the 
names of the whole number, however, will go down to posterity as 
orators and statesmen. 

The constant changes in these legislative bodies, and the very 
considerable number of persons in them, though certainly not very 



216 LECTURES ON 

large, diminishes individual responsibility, and is one of the causes 
of those agitations which arise in every Congress. Old members 
are desirous of keeping up their hard-earned distinction, and new 
men are fierce to become conspicuous ; the latter let off their 
arrows, to show the nation with what vigour they can bend the 
bow ; but it frequently happens, that after a few ineffectual efforts, 
many of them are heard of no more. 

The subjects before congress are not often of great importance, 
but merely matters of our own domestic relations, for we have but 
little legislating on foreign relations. Local questions, on which 
some little sectional interest or opinion turns, often excite more 
attention than those of great magnitude to the nation. It is such 
questions as these that call up the fire, and not unfrequently cause 
to flow all the venom of party. Many young members think they 
must send their constituents a speech now and then, for a two-fold 
reason, to show them that they are of some consequence at Wash- 
ington, and to secure their next election ; and it will not be denied 
by any man of honesty, sagacity, and experience, that much of the 
time of Congress is taken up in effecting this object. 

A high standard of eloquence is expected of this body ; but there 
are many reasons operating against making or finding a great many 
first rate speakers in Congress. In the first place, the haU of re- 
presentatives is too large for easy, natural speaking. The sweetest 
and richest tones of the human voice are often those of small com- 
pass and volume. In such an immense space as is contained with- 
in the walls of that hall, delicate voices are but faintly heard, or 
entirely drowned ; and when the voice is not distinctly heard, the 
audience, whether spectators or members, after a few painful strug- 
gles to hear, give it up ; and probably by locomotion or by conver- 
sation, prevent those from hearing who might have caught some- 
thing of the argument, if a profound silence among the audience 
had reigned in the room. The bold and full mouth speakers, by 
putting forth all their strength of lungs, may, sometimes, be heard 
by most of the members ; but then these vociferating and stentorian 
efforts seem to be giving only a wordy energy to the subject, and 
magnifying trifles by the power of sound. Emphasis, which should 
oe used only as discriminating one part of a sentence from another, 
is, in this hall, used merely to be heard. There is, to an enlightened 
mind, something almost ludicrous in hearing a man detailing com- 
mon place matters, and pronouncing plain maxims, in a voice of 
thunder. The voice raised to the highest pitch, has no proper in- 
flexions, cadences, or euphony, and often not any measure, but goes 
on in that monotonous, screamy manner, so offensive to all who 
have cultivated ears. The house of commons bears no propor- 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 217 

tion in point of size to this hall ; yet it is made to accommodate 
six hundred and fifty-eight members, and here there are but two 
himdred and sixteen, all told. 

So much for the house ; but it must be confessed that the busi- 
ness of Congress affords but few of those displays of eloquence we 
have heard of in deliberative assemblies. The general business of 
legislation is dull, and requires only attention ; for these occasions 
the members make no preparation, and of course produce but little 
effect. A spectator in the gallery hears the broken echoes of the 
voice, oftener than the natural tones of it ; and he soon grows tired, 
if not disgusted, with the subject and the speaker. By a continu- 
ance of these evils, the publick are disposed to give up their expec- 
tations of hearing speeches, on common occasions, remarkable for 
elegance in language, or happy in delivery. They turn to the pa- 
pers for speeches, and these again deceive them ; for there is not 
one speech out of twenty given to the publick as they are delivered. 
The reporter, according to custom, is bound to make the orator 
talk good English, at least, and say nothing absurd, if nothing very 
smart ; while the speaker very often pays no regard to rules in the 
delivery. The highest grade of American elocution, therefore, is 
not to be looked for in the house of representatives, except upon 
particular occasions, and from those who do not often gratify the 
publick with a speech. " The high and palmy state''' of American 
eloquence, was during the first ten years of the forty since the adop- 
tion of the constitution. The causes of its falling off are obvious. The 
time then was not wasted on trivial subjects and personal bickerings ; 
there was business to be done, and they set about it in good earnest ; 
and when proper opportunities occurred for eloquence, it was foxmd of 
a manly, vigorous, classical order. They were well educated men, se- 
lected for their intelligence and character among their fellow citizens. 
Let it not be imderstood that we think that our present Congress is 
wanting in talent, or in information. No ; we are as well aware as 
any can be, that our national legislature abounds in men gifted by 
nature, and imbued with learning ; men who, on all great occasions, 
come forward and show the depth of their resources, and their power 
of investigation, and exliibit integrity, talent, and eloquence, sufllcient 
to redeem the reputation of any body of men, and to wipe the stain from 
the national escutcheon ; men by the light of whose minds we have 
been illumined, and by whose virtuous and exalted feelings we have 
been warmed and enamoured. These are the hope of their country, 
the salt of the land ; but who are aroused only on great occasions, 
and will not enter into all the pitiful squabbles of the day, nor con- 
tend with ignorance and vulgarity for the mastery in the race for 
popularity. Mighty minds are seldom profuse of effort, or hasty in 
T 38 



218 LECTURES ON 

conflicts ; they wait until the occasion demands, and the subject 
justifies an interposition. 

No country on earth has ever laboured harder to make orators 
than our own. In addition to the fifty-three colleges, where clas- 
sical educations are given, there are hundreds of minor institutions 
in wliich every rule of rhetorick is committed to memory ; and 
every student can give you all the maxims, from Blair, Campbell, 
and others, necessary to make an orator; can tell you when to ex- 
tend the arm, balance the body, raise the eyes, quicken the ut- 
terance, elevate the voice, and all the other golden rules to build up 
a Demosthenes or a Chatham. We have had most of the great 
dramatick actors from Europe to teach us ; to those of our mother 
tongue we have paid great attention, from Hodgkinson to Macrea- 
dy. Fennel came to teach us to read, Ogilvie to speak; and 
teachers have swarmed upon our shores, and we have followed 
them, and paid them extravagant sums for years, for instruction ; 
but our eloquence is not much benefited by all this. Our canons 
of criticism, no doubt, have been multiplied, and our taste grown 
more fastidious by all their precepts and examples ; but for all this, 
our great orators have not increased in proportion to the number 
of publick speakers. It may be asked, " do you mean to infer that 
all these rules and criticisms are of no advantage to the youthful 
aspirant in elocution ?" We do not say this ; but we do say, that 
all the rules in the world will not alone make an orator. The seeds 
of eloquence are sown while on the maternal bosom, and are de- 
veloped with the first powers of utterance. It is taught in the nursery, 
m the primary, secondary, as well as in the high schools. It consists 
in the education of the human voice, together with the human mind. 

All property that comes down to us from our ancestors receives 
the name of patrimonj^, as coming from our fathers, and as acquired 
and maintained by them, except our language, the most noble of 
all things we inherit, and this is called our mother tongue — a just 
and beautiful compliment to maternal instruction. It goes to say, 
that the elements of our language are acquired befoi'e the father's 
care begins. How much more sweet and noble is this term, ovr 
mother ton^we, than that of vernacular J angit age. The origin 
of the latter is mean, compared with the former, notwithstanding 
its classical decent. A verna was a bondman or bond- woman among 
the Romans of the class of the Nothi, who were household slaves, 
but had certain rights, which could not be taken from them. The 
vernae, from Avhence vernacular, were instructed in all the niceties 
of the Latin language, in order to teach the children the vernacular 
in its purity. The value of these bondmen, or nursery maids, was 
in proportion to their knowledge of their language, and the use of 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 219 

a chaste, easy, colloquial style of conversation. It was the duty of 
these men and women to see that the legitimate children should 
acquire no bad habits, while they were writing the first words of 
their vocabulary on their memories. If the infant has good exam- 
ples in speaking, the child correct precepts in reading and speaking, 
and the youth is in constant habits of attention to his language, in 
ali the common affairs of life, and with this, is careful to improve 
his mind, he is an orator, without, perhaps, knowing it. Con- 
nexions and associations have as much to do with the tones of the 
human voice as with our cast of thinking and reasoning ; hence 
professional pronunciation, provincial accents, and many other pe- 
culiarities that vitiate the correct and elegant use of our language. 
We, probably, have much less of this provincialism than any other 
people. 

Eloquence must be the voice of mind, or it is nothing. The full 
mind will, in excitement, find utterance, and communicate its 
knowledge. Mental energies will, in the end, overcome most phy- 
sical defects. Tlie voice of an empty declaimer, however mellifluous, 
soon becomes oflTensive ; the impassioned soul will find a tongue, 
and the dictates of an enlightened understanding correct its voice. 
There are some specimens of written eloquence in the annals of 
the first century of our country, that have come down to us, with 
the traditions of the manner in which they were spoken, Avhich 
strictly corresponds with the spirit of the composition. Such are 
some of Cotton Mather's sermons, and an earlier effort of Governor 
Winthrop. 

Eloquence was in that age confined chiefly to the pulpit, as the 
magistrates had not many opportimities for a display of their ora- 
tory in the desultory business of their courts ; but when church was 
entirely separated from state, opportunities grew more frequent 
in the legislative assemblies, and there can be no doubt but that 
there was much spirited debate in the questions of state policy 
which were constantly occurring in the several provinces. The 
numerous discussions upon furnishing men and supplies for Cana- 
dian and Indian wars; the inanner of managing the campaign ; as 
well as many minor matters, were all subjects which called forth the 
sloquence of our ancestors; aiKl one versed in the minute history of 
the early times, will often see in obituary notices, in funeral sermons, 
and private letters, observations and epithets which afford him much 
information respecting the style of eloquence in that age, and of 
the men who were conspicuous as speakers. Of one, it was said, that 
tie was a Boanerges, and he thundered on his opposers ; of another, 
that he was silver-tongued, and pleased every body; and of 
another, that he was a host in himself, and if you did not wish 



220 LECTURES ON 

to follow him, you must shut your ears when he was talking: 
In truth, they were eloquent, for they were engaged in matters of 
importance to themselves, had " the motive and the cue to action," 
without any poverty of words. The whole meaning of the maxim, 
that free governments are favourable to eloquence, is only, that 
intelligent men are found there, and dare say what they think in 
strong language ; and this boldness gives to all that proceeds from 
their lips, point and force. 

We have said something of the eloquence of those who reasoned 
the mass of the people into the opposition to the mother country ; 
but it was said in so general a manner, that we, perhaps, may be 
indulged in selecting a few of the individuals who were distinguish- 
ed in those days, and since ; not that these we may select are the 
" twentieth of a tithe" of those who took a part in the debates 
upon the countless questions of right, and duty, and policy of our 
proceedings during the time we were growing into a nation ; but a 
few may be brought forward to show the style and manner of the 
most conspicuous of them. Some of them have lived to the days 
of the lecturer, and their manner is fresh in his recollection. Of 
those he never heard, he forms his opinions upon the concurrent 
testimony of good judges, who have often heard them speak, and 
the reports of their speeches that have come down to us. 

Patrick Henry, of Virginia, was a natural orator, as some gifted 
speakers are called, whose eloquence seems spontaneous, and is 
impassioned and free from the trammels of rules. It is said that 
he was a self-educated man, whose manner was his own, and was 
blessed with the power of utterance beyond most of those who 
had been taught in the groves of the academy. He felt deeply and 
made others feel. His flashes of eloquence gave an electrick shock 
to the audience ; and these were managed with great skill, and 
repeated at his will ; or by some sudden transition, he let down his 
hearers to a common tone of feeling, by the most felicitous illustra- 
tions or playful similes. He was, however, more powerful in 
raising apprehensions than in allaying them. His eloquence was 
supported by his patriotism, and what in the warmth of debate he 
said he would do, he followed up in the coolness of reflection ; 
and if not as powerful, was as fearless with his sword as with his 
tongue. His eloquence was not elaborate, nor his speeches long. His 
audience easily understood him, and his speech was ended before 
any part of them were tired of hearing him. His patriotism and 
his eloquence have had ample justice done them by his learned 
biographer. 

Another of the same state, Mr. Madison, exhibited a different 
style of eloquence. He had no passion, no majesty of tone, no 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 221 

vehement gestures, nothing of that war-horse spirit of his co- 
adjutor, Patrick Henry; his was the smootli, but manly cur- 
rent of thought. It was philosophy, reasoning upon rights, and 
explaining duties, and teaching his hearers how to prepare for 
exigencies. He saw all things in a clear light, without enthusiasm 
or agitation. His speaking resembled his writing: his lines were 
all straight, his letters uniformly made, his spelling accurate, and 
his punctuation perfect. He was never off his guard ; but self- 
possessed, he spoke until he was satisfied that he was fully under- 
stood, and then he left his arguments to work out their proper 
effect, without showing any anxiety for himself or them ; perhaps 
there was never a man who spoke so often, that spoke so much to 
the purpose as Mr. Madison. His eloquence was one of those deep, 
silent, regular flowing rivers, that has no narrows, shoals, or cata- 
racts, but winds its way in peace and dignity to the ocean. He 
possessed such an equanimity of temper, that he was always ready 
for debate, and always acquitted himself well ; and if he did not 
rise so high in his eloquence, at times, as those who wait for inspi- 
ration, he never, like them, was liable to disappoint his hearers by 
inane voices, when the spirit ceased to agitate them. Mr. Madison 
is still living, the Nestor among orators. 

The eloquence of the patriot John Adams was altogether different 
from either of these men. His mind was full of classick learning, 
and his soul for ever animated with political prophecies, and his 
heart was in his mouth. He came to his subject sword in hand, 
and carried his purposes by storm rather than by siege. He saw 
his object clearly, and came to it directly. There were no Ionian 
blandishments in his style ; no Corinthian beauties ; use, durability, 
and strength, were the components of his elocution. When he 
spoke, the timid grew brave, and the cunning fled, for they knew 
he would cut the Gordian knot without wasting his time to show 
his ingenuity by untying it. His imagination was never diseased 
by evil forebodings ; he declared that America ought, could, and 
would be free. To this he at all times came directly, without ad- 
mitting contingencies or calculating upon misfortunes. He knew 
the character of the people, and he trusted in it for the result. He 
suggested to his native state, more than a year before the declara- 
tion of independence, the propriety of attacking the enemy in the 
vitals, by seizing their property on the high seas. The project was 
astounding even to his brave countrymen ; and one of his compeers, 
in that dark hour when it was made known, has often told me that 
he never should forget the time, the subject, the manner, or the 
man. Adams declared that the glory of America was to be on theseas ; 
and with more than Delphick eloquence raised his voice for wooden 
T2 



222 LECTURES ON 

walls. The naval glories of the world came up in intense visions 
to his mind, and he knew, by an every day observation, that the 
mariners of his country had the bone and muscle, the heart, the 
skill, and the indomitable courage, to make " their home upon the 
deep." Not a voice in the legislature was raised against his plans; 
and every old cannon that was embedded in the clay, or secured as 
a highway corner-post, started from its quietude, and was harnessed 
on some frail barque for the sea-fight. Was not this eloquence De- 
mosthenian ? It perhaps wanted something of the Athenian polish, 
but it had the true effect. 

The eloquence of Alexander Hamilton differed from all the pre- 
ceding orators we have named. He arose deeply impressed with 
his subject ; and often, in the onset, seemed a little agitated, a slight 
tinge of modesty crossed his cheek, but it was only the fear of him- 
self, the only fear a man of genius and of learning can ever have, 
when master of his subject. He made as few points in his case as 
possible, stated these in a clear and forcible manner, and spread 
them before the assembly, court, or jury, with great perspicuity and 
elegance. He never descended below the dignity of argument to 
catch popular applause, nor ever suffered himself to be borne away 
from the course of his reasonings by irritation or passion. There 
was temperance, method, and judgement in all his speeches ; and 
when he closed, there was nothing to mend, and but little to add. 
But the great charm of his eloquence, after all, was the conviction, 
in every mind, of the speaker's sincerity ; there was a window in his 
breast, and all the pulses of his heart were distinctly seen, beating 
in the regular movements of honour. His eloquence was fascina- 
ting as well as commanding ; his person was not large, but dignified 
and graceful. The compass of his voice was extensive ; its tones 
were not loud or vociferating, but his enunciation was so clear that he 
had the advantage over many, in the largest assemblies, whose lungs 
were much stronger than^his. No one, whatever might be his grade 
of intellect, ever heard him without delight; and no good judge, 
without feeling that he had been listening to a gentleman, a scholar, 
and a patriot, as well as an orator. He died in the prime of 
manhood ; and the tears of his friends and political enemies trickled 
together on his grave, as a tribute to the mighty dead. 

Gouverneur Morris was a splendid orator. His mind was prolifick, 
his fancy excursive, and his information extensive. He had read 
books attentively, but men more thoroughly. He was well ac- 
quainted with French literature and the academicians, and had 
caught something of their animation and literary fervour. His 
figures were beautiful, his sentimental touches delicate and thrilling. 
No orator ever made a more successful lunge at the heart than Mor- 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 223 

ris, for he pierced at will. If Hamilton was the Zenophon among 
our intellectual lights, as he has been called, for the neatness, purity, 
and perspicuity of his productions, surely his friend, Gouverneur 
Morris, ought to be called the Isocrates among them. He had the 
same splendour of imagination, and poised his sentences with the 
same art, that is seen in the orations of " the old man eloquent." 
Morris's eloquence was well suited to the deliberative assembly, and 
to those occasions in which the heart is deeply interested. His ora- 
tion over the body of Hamilton is admirable. At that moment, when 
the bleeding corse was before the eyes of his countrymen, and a 
nation's moans w^ere wafted on every wind, from north to south, from 
east to west, through the country; when almost any extravagance 
would have been tolerated in this paroxysm of mind ; for at this 
event the deep lamentations of the soul were commingled with the 
breath of execration, and there is no wild-fire like this; yet then 
the pathos of the orator was subdued, chastened, and harmonized 
to the mild and hallowed doctrines of Christianity: — such exhibi- 
tions are the triumphs of the god-like art, of controlling tempers, 
and of conquering hearts. 

He lived in republican struggles ; in the smishine of royalty ; in 
the \iproar of popular fury ; and then in the calm of personal safety 
and national tranquillity ; and from all drew lessons of experience, 
and through all carried the sound discretion of a high-minded man. 

Fisher Ames has been, perhaps, more celebrated as an orator than 
any other American, except Patrick Henry; but it is not our object 
to make comparisons between our distinguished men who have 
graced the annals of our eloquence. The person of Ames was tall, 
thin, and interesting ; his face Avas not what might be called hand- 
some, but agreeable, and full of soul. The style of his eloquence 
was flowing, warm, and copious, and certainly partook more of the 
Roman than of the Grecian orator. His manner was bland, but 
earnest, and his whole demeanour calculated to attract the attention 
of all eyes. His voice was musical, and he had the command of it 
from the highest to the lowest note, and in all its variations it was free 
from monotony or false tone ; for a sweet voice, he had less of sibi- 
lation than most of our orators, an evil that foreigners complain of in 
our language. His imagination was creative, and at his bidding 
new scenes arose, new^ beings lived, increased as he chose, and faded 
away at his Avill. He struck his hand across the chords of the hearts 
of his audience, and all was harmonious to his touch ; but his plain- 
tive measures were most congenial to his mind ; he had nothing 
dark or sullen in his constitution, but there was a soft and gentle 
gloom that often intermingled with the light of his mind, which 
gave the shade of the sanctuary to the outpourings of his heart. 



224 LECTURES ON 

He mourned to think that he could not fully impress on the minds 
of others what he foreboded for his coimtry ; the common fault of 
a sensitive patriot. Tlie diseases of his corporal frame entered deeply 
into his mind ; and amid troublesome times he mingled dark augu- 
ries for the nation. He saw, in his imagination, the myrmidons 
of France sweeping over his country with rapine, fire, and dagger, 
and the conflagration of cities filled his eyes, and the screams of 
ravished virgins his ears. His countrymen seemed to him in a 
state of amazing apathy, and he grew almost frantick at the thought ; 
but he mistook their cool, brave, and persevering character, for want 
of discernment and feeling. His warning appeals, as he thought 
them, were all wasted on the winds, although every one listened to 
him with profound respect and admiration. His friends and neigh- 
bours flocked around him, as a being of wonderful powers and su- 
periour sagacity ; but from their habits of reasoning for themselves, 
they thought that all these evils might not come, and they would 
wait the providence of God in this as in other things ; but the ho- 
nour and honesty of the great man they never doubted, for he was 
to them an angel of light ; crowded with all his gloomy thoughts 
for his country, he sunk to the grave ; but his admirers never lost 
one particle of their veneration for the genius and virtues of the man. 
No man has a higher claim than Samuel Phillips to that solemn 
eloquence which was formerly common in New-England, but is 
now nearly extinct ; and which was a union of the dignity of the 
eloquence of the magistracy, and the sanctity of that usual in the ec- 
clesiastical council. Mr. Phillips was for twenty years president of 
the senate of the commonwealth of Massachusetts. He was a man 
of sterling integrity, of scrupulous exactness, and of religious so- 
lemnity ; he possessed a strong mind, had a good share of classical 
taste, and a thorough early education. In speaking, his enuncia- 
tion was slow, but not in the least drawling ; his emphasis and 
cadence were admirable. He never rose to speak until he had 
fully matured his subject, and when he did, all were attentive. 
Point, maxim, inference, and conclusions, followed with such order, 
and such strength of argument, that he never spoke without 
making a deep impression, and seldom was on the unsuccessful 
side of a question. I have no belief that there are many speeches, 
or even skeletons of speeches, of his in print. There are several 
articles from his pen in the Massachusetts state papers. Among 
other things, there is an address of the legislature of the common- 
wealth of Massachusetts to John Adams, on his return to his resi- 
dence in Quincy, after the election of Mr. Jefferson to the presi- 
dency of the United States. This is an elegant production, full of 
both dignity and affection ; and all writings that are known to be 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 2!S 

his are of a high character, as well in point of composition, as in 
spirit and matter. 

Samuel Dexter was another of our orators, who was the great 
man of his day. Every epithet of praise was lavished on his elo- 
quence. He was indeed a strong man. His frame was colossal, 
his features prominent and marked. There were no nice graces, 
no delicate finishings about him as an orator. His voice was heavy, 
his enunciation slow, and his manner generally cool ; and even 
when he was disturbed, it was rather tlie swell of the ocean, than 
the dash of the torrent. Like Pinckney, he was equally distin- 
guished at the bar and in the deliberative assembly, and was con- 
stantly engaged in one or the other. Mr. Dexter was in Congress 
in stormy times, and fearlessly took his course. From the Con- 
gress he was made a member of the cabinet of President Adams, 
continued a while with his successor, and from that office he re- 
turned again to the bar. Here it was thought by many that he 
was without a rival as an advocate. He never did any thing by 
trick or cunning. In every argument he took the lion by the mane, 
and brought strength to match strength, and put the mastery upon the 
trial of superiour power ; and no one will venture to say that he had 
inferiour intellects to contend with. He practised in an enlightened 
community, and had to struggle with those who wore polished ar- 
mour, and bore fearful weapons, and used them with knightly skill. 
Yet, if not always victorious, he was never broken down by supe- 
riour energy, but kept himself ready for the combat. It is to be 
regretted that of such a man there should be so little remaining — 
not a whole political speech, not a full argument of his, in any 
case, can be found in print, and probably does not exist any where, 
in manuscript or memory. 

Pinckney was truly a great man — a lawyer, a statesman, a diplo- 
matist, an orator, and, withal, a scholar. Feeling the fire of genius 
kindling up within him, he broke from the common high road of busi- 
ness, and sought the paths of professional learning, against the sug- 
gestions of the prudent, and the advice of the sagacious. He con- 
quered one province after another in the regions of science and 
letters ; and went up with the unquenchable thirst of a great mind 
to drink of the springs of knowledge, not satisfied with the tainted 
currents as they flowed onwards through the world. He gave 
ample proofs, if any were wanting, that the highest cultivation of 
taste and imagination is consistent with profound research and 
sound judgement ; that ornament was not incompatible with 
strength ; and that even the temple of the law might, notwithstand- 
ing its gothick structure, be susceptible of elegance and high finish. 

39 



226 LECTURES ON 

His genius was not more lofty than versatile. It might have been 
said of him as of the fifth Harry : 

" Hear him debate of commonwealth affairs, 
You would say, it hath been all in all his study ; 
List his discourse of war, and you shall hear 
A fearful battle rendered you in musick ; 
Turn him to any course of policy, 
The gordian knot of it he will unloose, 
Familiar as his garter ; that when he speaks, 
The air, a chartered libertine, is still ; 
And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears 
To steal his sweet and honeyed sentences." 

The spaces he filled at the bar, in the senate, and as a foreign 
minister, were all great indeed. If he sometimes found equals, he 
had no superiours, and his country and his clients placed their 
interests in his hands with the fullest confidence that he would do 
all the case would admit of; and who could do more ? He never 
spared himself in any efforts required for his client's interest, and 
he went on day by day performing Herculean labours in the court, 
until nature, not early^ but xintimely, sunk under them. His elo- 
quence was of the highest grade, but not faultless. His audible 
whispers and his tremendous bursts w'ere well enough in him, for 
he threw intellect into every thing, even into manner ; and his voice 
was never harsh or dissonant. This habit in his imitators is shock- 
ing ; they are unequal to riding the great horse. Pinckney died at 
Washington, in the discharge of his duty at the bar of the supreme 
court of the United States. He was buried in the publick grave- 
yard, on the eastern branch of the Potomack, about a mile and a 
half from the capitol, in Washington. The lonely traveller, as he 
gazes on the monument, calls to his recollection how lately this 
heap of dust was the centre of attraction ! How few days have 
elapsed since bevies of beauties hung enamoured on his accents, and 
strewed flowers in -his path! They make no visits now, with re- 
turning seasons, to this spot, in honour of the shade of this once 
gifted orator I Some other idol, perhaps, has arisen, and the paeans 
they sung are forgotten; or perhaps these very votaries of fashion, 
whose smile of approbation was fame, have also passed away, with- 
out historian or poet. The records of fashion, notwithstanding the 
omnipotence of her reign, are written in fading ink, and soon become 
illegible. Over the spot where repose the ashes of the dead, hang 
the scales in which the mighty deeds of men are weighed ! How 
eloquent is the silence of the grave. 

We might go on to name a great number of men justly styled 
orators, who have passed from the stage of action withm less than 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 227 

twenty years past ; but our limits will not permit us to proceed ; not 
meaning simply to include the second class of the good business 
speakers, but only those of unquestionable superiority ; and I think 
no candid man will hesitate to say, that our community has been 
prolifick in those, compared with any other people. It has been 
said, by the Baron de Sainte Croix, that from the commencement 
of the thirteenth century to that of the third before Christ, Athens 
did not produce more than fifty-four distinguished orators and 
rhetoricians. We have had many more than that number within 
half a century. 



LECTURE XIIL 



I would I were a Poet, and could write 

The passage of this mighty world in rime, 
And talke of warres, and many a valiant fight, 
And how the Captaines did to honour clime ! 
Of wise and faire, of gratious, virtuous, kinde, 
And of the bounty of a noble minde. 

Nicholas Breton. 

To HAVE a fair and just view of the mind which has been active 
in the affairs of our country, ever since it had an existence, we must 
look at her military and naval characters, as well as to her literary 
and scientifick men : in fact they are, in our time, intimately connected. 
In every stage of our growth, we have had to struggle with hardships 
of an extraordinary nature. These exertions gave a hardihood to 
the people, which could not have been acquired in days of peace and 
prosperity. We will pass over those military characters, John 
Smith and Miles Stand ish— heroes of such prowess, that, if they had 
lived in some other ages of the world, would have had temples erect- 
ed to their memories— and proceed- to trace, with rapid hand, some of 
the wars in which the colonies were involved, from their infancy up 
to the present time. The colonies classed their wars under the fol- 
lowing names : When the country of the Indians at war with them 
was without their grants, they called it a war, in the common accep- 



238 LECTURES ON 

tation of the term ; but if within their gran\s and without their settle- 
ments, they called it an interruption ; but if within their settlements, 
they called it a rebellion ; hence the term so often used, rebel Indi- 
ans : some of their bloodiest wars were of this description. 

In 1634, the Pequods, a powerful nation of Indians, killed Capts. 
Stone and Norton, traders in their country ; this gave the colonies 
the alarm. In 1636, Lords Say and Brook erected a fort near the 
head quarters of the Pequods, which so incensed them, that they con- 
tinued their massacres, until the people of Connecticut found it ne- 
cessary to make a war of extermination upon this tribe of Indians in 
their neighbourhood. Previous to this period, the colonies of New- 
England had associated for self-defence, and had made a league with 
the six Narragansett sachems. The Narragansetts were not friendly to 
the Pequods, and entered at first into this war with alacrity. In May, 
1637, a body of seventy men, with sixty Connecticut river Indians, 
with two hundred Narragansetts, and one hundred Nianticks, a settle- 
ment of the Pequods in friendship with the colonists, and twenty 
men from the garrison of Say-Brook, under the command of Capt. 
Mason, with their friends from Massachusetts, consisting of one 
hundred and sixty-three men under Mr. Staughton, and fifty from 
the old colony, in three months cut up the Pequods, destroying 
about seven hundred of them, and only left about two hundred re- 
maining, who were soon scattered among the tribes, and lost their 
name and sovereignty. They were fierce and brave, but fought gene- 
rally with bows and battle axes, not having as yet procured many fire 
arms. The colonists lost a considerable number of men in these 
engagements, and had a still greater number wounded. 

In 1654, the Narragansetts made war on the Indians on Long 
Island, but the confederates soon suppressed these hostilities. In 
New-England there was peace from this time until 1675, when Philip, 
son of Massasoit — the father had been in friendship with the whites 
for fifty years — commenced hostilities upon them. He had concei- 
ved the design of exterminating the colonists at a blow. For this pur- 
pose, he covered his designs in the most artful manner by a treaty, in 
1671. Philip was a savage of the first order of intellect. He saw 
that his people were wasting away before the growing power of the 
white men, and that if a great effort was not made to destroy them, it 
would soon be too late. He had for many years, during the life time 
ofhisfather, been brooding over the fate of his country, and the vi- 
sions of futurity grew strong before his eyes ; he meditated upon 
what he saw, and silently determined on his course. His council 
probably were not apprized of the extent of his plan, which was to 
form a confederacy of the tribes from the St. Lawrence to the Missis- 
sippi ; and so secretly did he proceed on his journey to carry this in- 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 229 

to effect, that it was not for many months after his departure that the 
nearest colonists to Mount Hope, this sachem's usual place of resi- 
dence, knew or suspected his absence. The extent of his journey 
will probably never be traced ; but, from the numerous tribes of In- 
dians he soon stirred up to make common cause with him, it must 
have been very great. The system was one worthy of the most sa- 
gacious statesman of any age. Philip began his war himself, by kill- 
ing nine whites, in June, 1675. This exploit was the signal for the 
commencement of hostilities from the confederates. The plan was 
so well digested, that it would have succeeded if Philip had not been 
surrounded by traitors. The colonists were apprized of the designs 
of the alliance by friendly Indians, and made such arrangements as 
enabled them, in a great measure, to cut up these foes in detail, before 
they could make a simultaneous movement. The elements were also 
against the aboriginal warrior. There was quite a Russian winter 
in the year 1675 and 6, and the eastern Indians were obliged to sue 
for peace, as they were unable to fight and procure food at the same 
time. This was granted them ; but by the genial influence of spring, 
and the powerful arguments of Philip, they renewed hostilities as 
soon as their sufferings were over. On the 12th of August, 1676, Philip 
was slain by one of the friendly Indians, and this formidable alli- 
ance was soon broken and destroyed. The colonists had strained 
every nerve to raise troops, to make a powerful impression at the on- 
set. Governor Winslow, the second governor of that name, had 
made a campaign the previous winter with one thousand colonists 
and five hundred friendly Indians, and killed seven hundred of the 
enemy, with the loss of eighty-five men, and an hundred and fifty 
wounded. Winslow was a judicious commander, and performed 
his duties with great spirit and bravery ; but Col. Church, of Little 
Compton, was in truth the hero of this war. He was pressing 
hard upon Philip for some days before the chieftain was slain. 
Church's son wrote an account of the war in which his father was 
engaged ; a very plain, unvarnished tale of his exploits, which has 
lately been republished by Dr. Drake, of Boston, with copious notes, 
of great research and interest. Church lived many years, and was, 
at the commencement of the last century, engaged in Indian warfare 
in his old age. 

There was not a village which did not suffer by the attacks of the 
Indians, and many of them extremely. The assailants would often 
conceal themselves whole weeks in ambush, to wait for the absence 
of the men, and then attack defenceless women and children. Many 
instances of female heroism are on record, which occurred in that 
day, and should be carefully preserved. Among the most conspicu- 
ous was that of Mrs. Hannah Duston, of Haverhill, a pleasant village 
U 



230 LECTURES ON 

situated on the left bank of the Merrimack. On the 15th of March, 
1698, Mrs. Duston was made prisoner by a party of Indians. She 
was on this day confined to her bed by sickness, attended by her 
nurse, Mary Niff. Seven children, besides a female infant six days 
old, were with her. As soon as the alarm was given, her husband 
sent away the seven children towards the garrison-house ; by which 
time the Indians were so near, that, despairing of saving the others of 
his family, he hastened after his children, on horseback. This course 
was advised by his wife. She thought it was idle for her to attempt 
to escape. A party of Indians followed him, but the father kept jn 
the rear of the children, and often firing on his pursuers, he kept them 
back, and was enabled to reach the garrison with his children in safe- 
ty. The Indians took Mrs. Duston from her bed, and carried her off, 
with the nurse and infant ; but finding the little one becoming 
troublesome, thej' took her from her mother's arms by force, and 
dashing her against a tree, ended her moans, and miseries, and life 
together. The mother had followed the Indians until this moment 
with faultering steps and bitter tears, thinking on the fate of herself, 
her babe, and her other children. After this horrid outrage, she 
wept no more ; the agony of nature drank the tear-drop ere it fell. 
She looked to heaven with a silent prayer for succour and ven- 
geance, and followed the infernal group without a word of com- 
plaint. At this instant, the high resolve was formed in her mind, 
and swelled every pulse of her heart. They travelled on some dis- 
tance : as she thought, one hundred and fifty miles, but, perhaps, 
from the course they took, about seventy-five. The river had pro- 
bably been broken up but a short time, and the canoes of the Indi- 
ans were above the upper falls, on the Merrimack, when they com- 
menced their journey to attack Haverhill. Above these falls, on an 
island in this river, the Indians had a wigwam, and in getting their 
canoes in order, and by rowing ten miles up the stream, became 
much fatigued. When they reached the place of rest, they slept 
soundly. Mrs. Duston did not sleep. The nurse, and an English 
boy, a prisoner, were apprized of her design ; but were not of much 
use to her in the execution of it. In the stillness of the night she 
arose and went out of the wigwam to test the soundness and security 
of savage sleep. They did not move : they were to sleep until the 
last day. She returned, took one of their hatchets and dispatched 
ten of them in a moment, each with a single blow. An Indian wo- 
man who was rising when she struck her, fled with her probable 
death-wound ; and an Indian boy was designedly spared ; for the 
avenger of blood was a woman, and a mother, and could not deal a 
death-blow upon a helpless child. She surveyed the carnage ground 
by the light of the fire which she stirred up after the deed was done j 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 231 

and catching a few handfuls of roasted corn, she commenced her 
journey ; but on reflecting a moment, she thought the people of Hav- 
erhill would consider her tale as the ravings of madness, when she 
should get home, if ever that time might come ; she therefore return- 
ed, and scalped the slain ; then put her nurse and English boy into 
the canoe, and with herself they floated down to the falls, when she 
landed, and took to the woods, keeping the river in sight, which she 
knew must direct her on the way home. After suflbring incredible 
hardships by hunger, cold, and fatigue, she reached home, to the sur- 
prise and joy of her husband, children, and friends. The general 
court of Massachusetts examined her story, and being satisfied of 
the truth of it, took her trophies, the scalps, and gave her fifty 
pounds. The people of Boston made her many presents. All classes 
were anxious to see the heroine ; and as one of the writers of 
that day says, who saw her, " she was a right modest woman." 
Has Anacharsis or Mitford, in their histories of Greece, any thing to 
surpass this well authenticated story ? Her descendants in a right 
line and by the same name, are now living where she was captured. 
The Indian tribes, at this period, had assistance from the French 
in their several attacks upon the settlements, in 1688 to 1699, and 
from 1703 to 1713, as well as afterwards. About the year 1717, the 
Indians on Kennebeck river began to show a disposition to quarrel ; 
but hearing that the small pox was prevalent among the whites, 
they were deterred from any very open attacks. The small pox 
was, in fact, very general in 1721, but in 1722, when it had abated, 
Lieut. Governor Dummer, acting as commander-in-chief, sent Capt. 
Harmon with an hundred men, in whale boats, up the Kennebeck, 
and surprised the Indians at Norridgewock. Several of the Nor- 
ridgewocks were killed, and with them father Ralle, a pious catho- 
lick priest. He was sacrificed at the altar, while performing mass. 
Tliis required no justification in that period, bvit the act seems to 
want one now, and that I am not prepared to make ; but our fa- 
thers did not require many excuses from Indian killers; and perhaps 
we are apt to find fault with them, without considering that if the 
Indians had not been exterminated, the English must have been. 
It was very clear to every mind, that, as they viewed each other, 
they could not exist together. In May, 1724, was Lovewell's fight, 
which has been mentioned before by us in these lectures. This 
event has been commemorated both in verse and prose. After the 
Pequod war, Connecticut had not much trouble from the Indians, 
but they were ever ready to assist their neighbours when called 
upon. There had existed from the first a readiness to assist each 
other, a principle which grew out of the common danger, and which 
now can hardly be understoood, except by those who have felt the 



232 LECTURES ON 

dread of a savage foe coming in upon their wives and children with 
indiscriminate massacre. During these stniggles of New-England 
for her existence, several of the other colonies were grievously an- 
noyed. 

In Virginia, the Indians had been troublesome from the first set- 
tlement, at Jamestown. In 1610, the colony of Virginia was redu- 
ced from five hundred to eighty. From 1612 they kept in peace until 
1622, chiefly by the good conduct of Capt. Smith, and a few of his 
associates. In the year 1622, the Indians murdered three hvmdred 
and forty-seven in one day, in Virginia. Harvey's arbitrary course 
in encroaching upon the Indian territories, caused another insur- 
rection in 1639, in which five hundred of the colonists were slain. 
While Philip's war was raging at the north. Bacon was rousing up 
the Indians to oppose the government of Governor Berkley, for 
pretty much such a course as Harvey had pursued. In 1711, the 
Cape Fear Indians of North Carolina, made war on that colony, and 
after destroying about twenty families, were quelled by troops from 
Virginia and South Carolina coming to their aid. The Virginians 
and Carolinians were never wanting in chivalry. 

Up to this time, and in all the wars we have mentioned, the mo- 
ther country did not help a finger to assist us in fighting our enemies. 
They left their dear children to shift for themselves, until it was 
found quite convenient to fight France on our continent, and then a 
deep interest was taken by the British ministry in the success of 
our affairs with the natives. 

These wars with the Indians we have enumerated, were not the 
only wars in which the colonies were engaged. In 1690, Col. 
Phipps, as Douglass calls him, was fitted out by New-England with 
seven hundred and fifty men, to attack the French settlement at Aca- 
die ; and he took Port Royal, which was held until 1697, when En- 
gland gave it to France. This year also, 1690, Phipps made an attack 
upon Canada with a considerable force ; one thousand colonists and 
fifteen hundred Indians were to proceed to take Montreal, but did not ; 
and the naval force met with some disasters in going and returning. 
They began the enterprise too late in the season, and of course any one 
might have expected what did happen — a total failure of obtaining 
the object in view, with a great loss of lives. Cotton Mather gave a 
great many reasons for all the evils which accrued, but a few short 
ones would have been more correct, viz. : the force sent and the 
commanders of them were unequal to the task ; but there never was 
a braver set of men than those who accompanied Phipps in this un- 
dertaking ; they were of the best blood of the land ; virtuous, hardy, 
persevering, bold, independent, high spirited citizens, who feared 
God, and eschewed evil, but feared no danger by '^^ flood orfireP 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 233 

This expedition was fitted out 'under the avowed intention of de- 
fending the colonies against the French and Indians ; but the true 
cause of the expedition might be found in the plans of the English 
ministry, to do something on this continent to keep an equipoise for 
what might be lost in Europe; and in the vanity of Phipps, who, 
having performed one exploit with success, thought that he was 
born for a conqueror and a statesman. 

In 1710 and 1711, other attempts were made on Quebeck, but in these 
the ministry Avere more hberal of means, and did not throw the bur- 
den wholly on the colonies ; still, in this they were heavily taxed. 
By an order from the British ministry, a Congress was to be assem- 
bled at New-London, formed of the governors of the provinces 
north of Pennsylvania, to concert measures with Nicholson, an offi- 
cer of his majesty's army, at the head of the forces from England. 
Two regiments from Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and New-Hamp- 
shire, were to join the British troops destined for an attack on Que- 
beck ; while the militia from Connecticut, New-York, and the Jer- 
seys, with the Indians of the five nations, were to attack Montreal. 
This expedition totally failed, with immense losses; and to finish the 
tale of disasters, the admiral's ship blew up on her homeward voy- 
age. These campaigns were committed to men unacquainted with 
the country, and the best modes of fighting the Indians and their al- 
lies, and were managed in so open a manner, that the French were 
generally apprized of these intended attacks months before the 
forces for the execution of them arrived. The colonies could at 
any time have taken Canada, if they had thought it necessary for 
their existence ; but the Canadians and English settlers on the At- 
lantick were not jealous of each other ; nor unfriendly, imtil the pa- 
rent country excited them to hostilities. Some of the historians of 
that day say, that in this enterprise there were twenty-three thou- 
sand men in arms, a greater proportion, according to the number 
of inhabitants, than has ever been since. In 1744, a war broke out 
between France and England. In January, 1744-5, the legislature 
of Massachusetts, by a majority of one vote only, determined to 
make an attempt on Louisbourg, then called the Dunkirk of Ame- 
rica, from the strength of its fortifications. The forces raised were 
small for the undertaking, consisting of about 3600 volunteers from 
Massachusetts, New-Hampshire, and Connecticut, who effected the 
reduction of this strong hold with the small loss of less than two 
hundred men. These troops Avere commanded by General Wil- 
liam Pepperell. The others of note in this expedition were Briga- 
dier General Waldo, Cols. Mouhon, Hale, Willard, Richmond, and 
Gorham, of the infantry, and Cols. Dwight and Gridley, of the ar- 
tillery ; the latter of whom fell afterwards at the battle of Bunker- 
U 2 30 



234 LECTURES ON 

hill, with Capt. Barnard, an excellent engineer, who had under his 
command a train of expert and hardy artificers, mostly ship-car- 
penters, a profession to which our country has in every exigency 
been much indebted. Major General Wolcott, from Connecticut, had 
a force of five hundred men who joined this army. The colony 
of Rhode Island sent their province sloop, and the government of 
New-York sent them several excellent cannon, which proved of 
incalculable service in the campaign; and several of the govern- 
ments south of New- York made the forces a present of some pro- 
visions, and wished them God speed. Admiral Warren joined, with 
a considerable fleet ; but nothing could have been achieved by naval 
force alone. The provincials performed in this enterprise prodigies of 
labour : they drew the heavy cannon over a morass, thought, by the 
sagacious French engineers, to have been absolutely impassable, for 
ordnance of any considerable weight. The provincials made sledges 
and placed the cannon upon them, and in the thick fog, or in the 
darkness of the night, dragged them to a proper distance from the 
walls to erect a battery. Some historians say that the men were 
knee deep in the mire in this work ; but a veteran, who served in this 
campaign, once told me that he was engaged in this labour, and that he 
and his men used the snow-shoes which had been provided for the 
winter, and found that they could work well with them on the mo- 
rass. The besieged, seeing this battery and other formidable prepa- 
rations, capitulated on the 17th of June, 1745. This exploit has no 
parallel in modern history. This was glorious news in England ; 
but the safety of the colonies was put in jeopardy by it, for the next 
year the French ministry, sharpened at this unexpected disaster, sent 
the Duke D'Anville, with a formidable force, to retrieve it, and lay 
waste the towns on the seaboard. The discomfiture of this ar- 
mada, and the death of the admiral, and all the tales of the pious 
and superstitious, are written in the chronicles of that day, but are 
too long for my purpose. There is one fact, however, which oupfht 
never to be forgotten, which is, that seven thousand troops poured in 
from the country, at this alarm, to save Boston and the neighbouring 
seaports ; a wonderful army, considering the population of the inte- 
rior at that day. Elated by the success of the provincials and their 
fleet in taking Louisbourg, the English ministry were determined on 
another attack upon Canada. By an order from the duke of New- 
castle, the secretary of state, the governors of the North American 
provinces were required to raise as many companies, to consist of an 
hundred men each, as they could spare. Those of New-York, New- 
Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia, to be formed into a 
corps to be commanded by General Gooch, then lieut. governor of 
Virginia. In obedience to this order, Virginia sent two companies, 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 235 

Maryland three, Pennsylvania four, Jersey five, and New-York fif- 
teen, making twenty-nine companies. These were intended for 
Crown Point and Montreal. Massachusetts Bay raised twenty com- 
panies, Connecticut ten, Rhode Island three, New-Hampshire two, 
making thirty-five companies. These were to join the forces from 
England against Quebeck. From misunderstanding, mismanage- 
ments, and sickness, this mighty preparation failed. The difficul- 
ties in this expedition, as in most undertaken by the mother country to 
fight the French in America, principally arose from the disposition of 
the regular troops to put the greatest burdens on the provincials, 
and then to claim all the laurels for themselves. This was cause 
of grievous complaint at that time. 

In 1748, the peace of Aix la Chapelle was made, and the fortress 
of Louisbourg was given up without any regard to the safety of the 
colonies, the avowed object of the ministry in striving to obtain it. 

In 1755, while there was yet a nominal peace between France 
and England, hostihties were carried on in this country between 
the colonies, and the Indians and French, assisted by troops from 
England. There had been no formal declaration of war, when 
Dinwiddle, governor of Virginia, sent Colonel Frye and Lieutenant 
Colonel Washington against the French and Indians ; in which 
enterprise the latter was so much distinguished, that when Brad- 
dock arrived to take the command of all the forces in this country, 
he made Washington his aid. The unfortunate battle of Mononga- 
hela, on the 9th of July, 1755, in which Braddock was mortally 
wounded, has so often been minutely narrated, that I will not 
dwell upon it in this place. Braddock's fame has suffered in the 
history of his country as well as in ours ; because he permitted 
himself to be surprised. This alone ought not to tarnish his fame ; 
for commanders, more acquainted with the savages than Braddock, 
have been surprised and defeated long since the lesson from his 
fate has been given. William Johnson, the same year, with a force 
raised from New-England and New- York, was sent against Crown 
Point, but he never reached there. Near the head of Lake George, 
the advance of his army was attacked by the French and Indians, 
under the Baron Dieskeau, and driven into the main body, which, 
after the fight began, had thrown up a few felled trees to protect 
themselves. From this ground the enemy was repulsed, and Dies- 
keau severely wounded. Johnson was knighted for the exploit, 
but truth, since discovered, must give the honours of that day to 
General Lyman, second in command, who fought the battle. John- 
son having been wounded in the early part of the engagement, re- 
tired from the field. In this battle, in the first part of it, fell the 
celebrated Indian chief, Hendrick, who was in friendship with us, 



236 LECTURES ON 

and was fighting for the colonies. He was one of those men made 
a chief by nature. He was fierce, bold, and persevering in fight, 
and made the best arrangements for battle. He was as politick as 
brave ; but his superiority was in no small degree owing to his 
wisdom and eloquence. Many of his remarks liave come down 
to U.S, and are as pithy as any of those ascribed to the ancients. 
When asked if a certain number of troops were sufficient for a 
particular expedition, he answered, " They are too many to be 
sacrificed, and too few to conquer." 

Montcalm succeeded to Dieskeau. He was an accomplished 
officer, who had served with great reputation in several campaigns 
in Europe, and was .sent to succour Canada. Offensive measures 
were not within his calculations ; but finding that he was not likely 
to be disturbed at Quebeck, or at Crown Point, he proceeded up to 
Lake George, and made an attack on Fort William Henry, then 
garrisoned by Colonel Munro with British and provincial soldiers. 
The fort was in a low and badly selected place, and of course 
fell, after an obstiuiite defence. Montcalm guarantied to the pri- 
soners a safe conduct through the woods to the settlements on the 
Hudson ; but, from what cause has never been explained, this article 
in the terms of capitulation was totally disregarded. No sooner 
had the march of the provincials commenced, than the Indians fell 
upon these disarmed soldiers, the great objects of their hatred, with 
infernal ferocity, butchering without discrimination all they over- 
took. Driven to madness, some of the provincials were collected 
and stood their ground, and when the savages came upon them, 
they met their fire, and then rushed on their foes and struggled for 
their arms ; and .such was tlie success of this desperate attempt, 
that arms and ammunition sufficient to check the assailants were 
obtained long before the close of the bloody day. This track of 
slaughter and horrour is now traced by the traveller as consecrated 
ground : often has ho put himself in health and spirits for such a 
campaign at Saratoga Springs, whose medicinal waters had been 
shown by Hendrick to Johnson, several years before the chief was 
slain. 

In 1756, Governor Shirley, of Massachusetts, who was a good 
lawyer and excellent civil magistrate, conceiving himself to be by 
nature made for a warrior, marched with a considerable force to 
Oswego ; but that ground had as yet been very treacherous to the 
fame of every military leader but Johnson, and he had barely 
escaped a disasterous fate. Shirley returned without all the laurels 
he expected. He wrote a defence of liiniself, which goes to prove 
that he was more successful than others in the same campaign. 

In the summer of 1758, General Abercrombie and Lord Howe, 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 237 

with ten thousand regulars and six thousand militia, marched to 
Lake George, and made preparation to attack Ticonderoga. They 
moved down the lake, which had been called Lake Sacrament, from 
the purity of its waters, in a thousand boats, in most magnificent 
style; but in this expedition, Lord Howe was killed, and nineteen 
hundred and thirty-five of the provincials and Britisli soldiers fell 
in two hours, in the attack upon the fort, and the expedition ended 
in a retreat. This was wholly owing to Abercrombie's disregard- 
ing the advice of the provincial commander. General Winslow, an 
experienced officer. Lord Howe was a young man of higli pro- 
mise, and so much esteemed by the provincial troops, that Massa- 
chusetts, with the permission of the king, erected a monument to 
his memory in Westminster Abbey. General Winslow was a gal- 
lant officer, of commauding talents, and had seen much service ; 
he was a descendant of the first and second governors of that name 
of the Plymouth colony, whose military prowess is identified 
with the history of the country. He was well educated, and had 
gained the respect and confidence of the British officers, and the 
affection of his own troops ; the papers of that day bear testimony 
to his spirit in supporting the claim of his own men to distinction. 
In this campaign, as in the preceding and following winters, the 
Rangers, as a particular corps was called, performed extraordinary 
feats. This body of troops was provincials, under the command of 
Major Rodgers, an experienced officer ; Generals Putnam and Stark 
were at this time captains in this body, and distinguished themselves 
for bravery and skill. The journal of Major Rodgers is in print, 
and is worthy the attention of the American reader, as the bravery, 
fortitude, and sufferings, of these rangers, have no parallels in British 
history. The British historians only glance at these exploits of our 
countrymen, and we have had but few historians ourselves to re- 
cord them ; in all these contests, the provincial army had to 
pioneer the way, and met death and sufferings with a i)atriotick 
ardftur, but had none of a martyr's glory. The living provincial 
soldiers saw the honours wrested from him in every battle, when 
he had done his part, and more than his part, to serve his country 
and his king. 

At the close of this campaign, the military reputation of England 
was at a low ebb. The world began to think England in her 
dotage. One disaster had followed another so closely that these 
things could hardly be considered the fortune of war only. In 
Europe, from Italy to Russia, the historians and pamphleteers were 
prophesying disasters to England, and declaring glorious omens 
for France. The lilies were said to grow brighter every day. 
The political seers looked at the great efforts of France, and at their 



238 LECTURES ON 

chain of fortifications, extending from the St. Lawrence to the 
Mississippi, and called it the great bow of power around the Atlan- 
tick settlements. At this gloomy period, when despondency seemed 
to reign on this and the other side of the water, Chatham was 
made premier of England. This statesman had been a patriot 
leader for many years, and had stemmed the torrent of corruption 
and folly with fearlessness and energy. The disasters of his coun- 
try raised him to power, and he brought all the resources of his 
great mind to retrieve her misfortunes ; at once the war assumed a 
new character. He broke down the system, which had long been 
practised upon, of sending those abroad who were not much want- 
ed at home, and at once selected the leaders of his armies from the 
most determined of his generals. Amherst and Wolfe were sent 
to America, and the result of the calculations of the ministry proved 
their wisdom. Wolfe met Montcalm, and beat him ; Amherst with- 
out difficulty marched over the same ground which his predecessor 
had attempted and failed. Ticonderoga, Crown Point, and Mont- 
real, yielded without a struggle, and the war was ended. In the 
fame of Chatham, both hemispheres claim a share. He is identified 
with his country's honour, not only during his administration, but 
for ever. He saw, and gloried in the sight, that the language, the 
manners, the principles of government, the laws, and the sciences 
and literature of England, were growing up robustly and firmly in 
this extended country. He saw the current of liberty and law 
flowing with English blood, and identified his own country with 
her colonies. America will never forget this great man ; we re- 
joice in the thought that " his language is our mother tongue." 
He knew the character of the colonies ; he appreciated their sacri- 
fices, and did justice to their exertions ; and was unwilling Ihat 
they should be trampled upon, and oppressed by exactions and in- 
sults. He lifted his voice in their favour at all times, but it was 
not always heard, as it should have been. 

From the peace of 1763 to 1775, there was a constant course of 
irritations and bickerings between the colonies and the mother 
country. The colonies had been involved in debt, in support of 
British wars, and had bled at every pore for her glory ; there was 
not a place on the frontier or seaboard, where the bones of the 
colonists were not left to whiten ; nor a family in the provinces 
that did not mourn some member of it cut off in these wars ; but 
all these things were forgotten, and a revenue was to be extorted 
from them, against their will. The storm which had long been 
gathering at length burst upon their heads. The battle of Lexington 
opened the first scene of the drama which was to close in an eternal 
separation of this country from England. It was hard to burst the 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 239 

ties of friendship and consanguinity. The colonies loved the name 
of Briton, and felt connected with her name and fortunes. Her 
step-dame cruelty had wounded the hearts of her children, but had 
not extinguished their affections. The colonists had often entered 
complaints, and sometimes murmured a threat ; but at the same 
time prayed that all might be well again soon. It was in vain : 
the divorce was necessary, and has been useful to both nations, 
and to the world. The mother country had wrong and contradic- 
tory impressions of us ; they overrated our pecuniary means to pay 
taxes, and underrated the military talents which we possessed. 
They called our determination, obstinacy ; our just indignation, a 
factious spirit ; opposition was denominated rebellion ; and no 
measure of indulgence could, consistently with the views of the 
ministry, be productive of any thing but mischief. The pride of 
the few in England overcame the judgement of the many; and the 
appeal to arms became inevitable. The colonies found this could 
not be averted by petitions, entreaties, or reasoning, and prepared, 
as well as they could, for the worst. That day was full of fate to us ; 
and by the protecting hand of Providence, we were preserved. It 
should never be forgotton by us. All who live at this time, and 
have come up since that period, can hardly realize the solemnity 
and distress of this preparation for the conflict. After the battle of 
Lexington, all were seeking for means of attack and defence. The 
lead was stripped from the old fashioned diamond glass windows and 
melted for bullets ; women gave their last flannel wrapper for the 
use of the artillery in making cartridges ; every old firelock, whe- 
ther of William and Mary or of Queen Anne, or those taken from 
the French at Louisbourg or Quebeck, was mended up for fight. 
The pulpits rang with the duties of the christian soldier, and the 
Bible heroes were emblazoned ane\v as examples for imitation. 
The clergy were not only tongue valiant, but many of them joined 
the train-bands, and were ready to fight the battles of freedom. 
Matrons not only assisted to gird on the swords of their husbands, 
but put the weapons of war into the hands of their beardless sons, 
and urged them to the field of danger. "Who could withstand such a 
spirit ? Wliat foe could meet men so sent out ? The whole of the 
existence of the colonies had been preparing them for this sad crisis, 
as it then seemed to all ; but which, in truth, was only the forerun- 
ner to national independence and national consequence, in the eyes 
of those who were first among the nations of the earth. A v/hole 
people, as well as individuals, have their hours of despondency ; and 
this was one, indeed, for our own people ; but the minds of men, 
women, and children, were all prepared for the straggle. There 
was nothing of hasty impulse in their determmation, nothing un- 



340 LECTURES ON 

thought of, by sire and son ; they had compared notes, and settled 
the course to be pursued in any event. Another hour hke this will, 
perhaps, never again be found in the history of man. The English 
were, as a nation, totally incapable of understanding the force of this 
moral pressure upon a people so educated and so oppressed. It 
was a subject worthy the attention of the philosophers of the mind, 
and those who wished to analyze the laws by which nations are 
governed, when oppression acts upon those " who know their 
rights, and, knowing, dare maintain them.^' This solemn deter- 
mination which did not vent itself in words, but was ready to show 
itself by deeds, Avas entirely misunderstood by those who pretended 
to examine the tone of feeling, and to try the spirit of the people 
they were sent to awe to silence and submission. There were a 
few, indeed, who came to this country, and a few in England, who 
had never been here, who clearly foresaw all that would happen, 
for they were well acquainted with the nature, principles, and re- 
sources of the people of America. 

The battle of Bunker Hill was important in many respects. It 
was fought on something like a systematick plan. The officers 
had generally been in battle; many of them were at Louisbourg, 
which had been taken just thirty years before, even to a day; and 
others, at a later period, had been with Abercrombie, Amherst, or 
"Wolfe, on the frontiers. Putnam, Prescott, Gridley, Stark, and 
many of the others, even to the common soldiers, had seen much 
service. The British were not aware of the manner in which the 
yeomanry were officered, and tho\ight, or affected to believe, tliat 
the show of force was nothing more than a rabble. The battle was 
commenced as a matter of amusement by the British forces ; about 
one half of those who were led up the hill between three and four 
o'clock, had crossed from Boston to Charlestown at twelve o'clock, 
and dined directly in full view of the American redoubt ; they 
were certain that as soon as a movement was made, the Americans 
would run, and the battle-field would be their own, without danger 
or bloodshed. The manner in which these troops were met was 
deadly and tremendous ; all the beauty of the pageant was soon 
over. In this battle, at least fifteen hundred of the flower of the 
English army were slain in less than two hours, and a greater pro- 
portion of their officers than usual. More than three hundred of the 
corses of the slain were brought to Boston, and buried at the lower 
part of the common, to hide thjs amount of their loss. Never was 
there a more sudden and awful lesson than the Britisli soldiers expe- 
rienced on this memorable day. The provincials fought until all their 
ammunition was expended, and they had seen the best and bravest 
of all his Majesty's troops again and again retiring from the effect 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 241 

of their fire. There were not too many of the provincials killed 
for the desired effect of rousing the energies of the people, and 
giving a solemnity to the occasion ; and enough of the British to 
show the provincials that regular soldiers were neither invulnerable 
nor invincible. Had the Americans gained a victory, in all proba- 
bility the ministry would have sent out twice as many soldiers for 
the next campaign as they did. The ministry were told this was 
only a smart skirmish, and would not be repeated. The British 
disguised, as much as possible, the effects of this battle on their 
numbers, and more so the effect produced on the spirits of their 
troops. The loss of General Warren made a great impression on 
the minds of our people in every part of the country. His name, 
as president of the provincial congress, as chairman of the com- 
mittee of safety, his fame as a splendid orator, and his acknow- 
ledged patriotism and bra^^^ery, had fixed him indelibly in the hearts 
of his countrymen. They honoured others from duty and policy, 
they followed him from affection. " The blood of the 7nartyrs," it 
has been said, "was the seed of the chwch." From this patriot's 
blood, we may say, sprang myriads of armed men. The affecting 
fable of the sacrifice of the Athenian virgins to the sea-born mon- 
ster, rightly read, is precisely this: that the best and purest of the 
youthful blood of Athens was spilt to maintain their naval supe- 
riority, as their only, or their best defence, in the infancy of their 
existence. Our fate was similar ; our youthful blood was poured 
out for the country. Long since the events of that memorable 
day, the story of the fall of Warren has been told to children as 
matter of example and excitement, and his name and his virtues 
have come down to posterity with those of Washington. Great 
occasions produce great men. Necessity is said to instruct her 
children better in self-defence than other mothers. 

For a century and an half the people of this country had been 
educated in the school of self-defence. These lessons they were 
often forced to write in characters of blood. They had been so 
often thrown upon their resources, that they never suffered any 
feelings of despair to weigh them down. They had known nothing 
of the pageantry of war, nor its power in advancing one to wealth 
and honour ; but they had been made acquainted with its difl^culties 
and hardships. They had a sufficiency of those native elements 
which make courage a principle, and something of the experience 
which makes it a habit. 

We have opened upon the revolution ; but we cannot, at this mo- 
ment, indulge in even a glimpse of the heroes of that war ; their 
deeds, and their fame, shall be the burden of some''future lecture. 
It is now the right time, perhaps, to write out the memoirs of that 
X 31 



242 LECTURES ON 

age, and of these men ; for we are not so near the era of the revo- 
lution as to catch, and to incorporate the partialities and prejudices 
which were then abroad, into our opinions upon their merits ; nor 
are we so far from that time, as to require the aid of fiction to fill up 
our picture. We have been companions, in later times, with many of 
the actors in those scenes ; and from our childhood have heard them 
recount the circumstances of the revolution, most minutely, again 
and again. There are, thank heaven, some few of these veterans 
still lingering among the living ; these can, yea, do assist us in 
giving faithful descriptions of the scenes they witnessed, and cor- 
rect delineations of the characters they have known. I know that 
it is impossible for any one writer to do justice to all; but another 
may finish what one begins, and in the progress of time much may 
be effected. I shall attempt to sketch some of these characters 
hereafter, without any other pretensions than that of a sincere lover 
of my country's talent, wherever, or whenever it may be found. 
I have breathed the same air, and trod the same soil, in common 
with them, and that is something towards a fitnesss for my labour. 
I will illustrate what is difficult to describe. A gentleman from this 
country, several years since, visited Italy, and became familiarly 
acquainted with the great Praxiteles of modern times, Canova; 
he was often at his rooms, and one day, while the great master M'as 
giving the last touch to his statue of Washington, the keen sighted 
physiognomist observed by the countenance of his familiar visitor, 
that he was making a comparison, in his mind, between this work and 
an exquisite bust of Napoleon, on the table. The sensitive sculp- 
tor exclaimed, but in his own sweet language, — '■'■I have seen the 
emperor, and have breathed the air of France ; but I never 
crossed, the Atlantick — never saw your country — never heard the 
voice of Washington." 

As man is constituted, civil liberty cannot be preserved without 
military strength ; sylvan scenes, and the golden reign of perpetual 
peace, exist only in the dreams of the amiable theorist; they are not 
in nature. Military prowess shows the muscular strength and 
mental energy of a people, and often is a proof of their advancement 
in arts and sciences ; for there Is not a particle of human knowledge, 
but may be of use in a camp or on a battle-field. The higher the 
science of war is carried by a nation, the more certainty there is of 
her being at peace. There is an eloquence in cannon which reaches 
a foe above all the silver-tongued instruments of art. The argument 
from a full mouthed battery is powerfully convincing. The spirit 
to defend may degenerate into a passion to conquer. This, by a 
people of cultivated mhids, will be guarded against and prevented ; 
sages and warriors should live together ; but the disposition to 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 243 

quarrel is generally found to be in an inverse ratio with the ability 
to fight. History is full of proofs to this effect ; and ancient and 
modem fiction furnish a thousand mirrors to reflect tliis truth. The 
Lilliputians were constantly preparing their tiny bows and arrows 
for an attack, and misconstrued courtesy into insult ; but the giants 
of old seldom waged war ; and when they did, it was against the 
gods they fought, sure of the sustaining power of their mother earth. 



— Q(Q©— 



LECTURE XIV. 



For what of thrilling sympathy, 
Did e'er in human bosom vie 
With that which stirs the soldier's breast, 
When, high in g-odlike worth confest, 
Some noble leader gives command. 
To combat for his native land 7 
No ; friendship's freely flowing tide, 
The soul expanding ; filial pride, 
That hears with craving, fond desire, 
The bearings of a gallant sire ; 
The yearnings of domestick bliss, — 
E'en love itself, will yield to this. 

Joanna Baillie. 

On the 2d day of July, 1775, Washington arrived at Cambridge, 
and took command of the American army. He was not at this 
time much known to the officers of that army ; but in addition to 
his having been selected by the continental Congress, a body 
which had tlie confidence of all the people, his personal appearance, 
his military air, his sage demeanour, his attention to every minutiae 
of the camp, and his punctilious regard to religious observances, at 
once commanded respect and admiration. This soon ripened into 
that enthusiast ick veneration, which had before been rather the 
creature of the imagination than the belief of the understanding. 
This adoration, for it came as near it as any thing a mortal could 
inspire, was never for a moment lessened by accident or reverse of 
fortune. Washington had the undiminislied aflfections of New- 
England from that hour to the last moment of his existence. The 



244 LECTURES ON 

war had commenced in good earnest ; for a large army besieged the 
town of Boston from this time until the next spring, when it was 
evacuated by the British. The continental Congress soon began 
to think of effective measures in attack as well as in defence. In 
the fall of 1775, Generals Schuyler and Montgomery had been sent 
from New- York to attack Canada. Ticonderoga and Crown Point 
had been previously taken. The reasons which Congress avowed 
for this offensive war were, the reports that General Carleton had 
been stirring up the Canadians and Indians to harass our frontiers. 
The plan of attacking Quebeck was a most magnificent one ; but 
of very difficult execution. A detachment were to penetrate to 
Canada from the Kennebeck through the wilderness. Twelve hun- 
dred men were taken from Washington's camp for this service. The 
commander in chief cast his eye around him, and with that power of 
discrimination which in him was a peculiar trait of character, he 
fixed on General Arnold, of the Connecticut troops, to command 
this daring adventure. Arnold most cheerfully imdertook it. The 
crossing of the Alps by Hannibal was nothing to so bold an adven- 
ture as this. The hunter had not passed over the ground ; nor had 
man, civilized or savage, ever left a track of any kind for them to 
follow. In the midst of famine and frost, they acted with decision 
and firmness. Three hundred out of the twelve, after having pene- 
trated far into the wilderness, were sent home for want of provisions, 
and the others marched on. On the 31st of December, in the midst 
of a snow storm, an attack was made on the city of Quebeck by 
Montgomery's and Arnold's troops in different places. Arnold was 
wounded and Montgomery slain. Montgomery was a gallant offi- 
cer, and had seen much service ; and his death was deplored by 
every lover of liberty. The assailants were repulsed ; but the city 
was besieged for several months afterwards, by General Thomas 
from Massachusetts, and General Sullivan from New-Hampshire ; 
both officers of great merit. Thomas died in the campaign with 
the small pox. He was one of the most intelligent and experienced 
officers in the American army. 

The summer of 1776 was spent in watching the enemy, whose 
forces were now large, probably not far from twenty-five thousand; 
and our scattered forces were unequal for any thing more than hold- 
ing the enemy in check. Despair sat at this time on every face. 
The timid had begim to think in what manner their peace was to 
be made with the mother coimtry. It was at this moment of deep- 
est despondency that the genius of Washington developed itself. 
With an army of two thousand four hundred men, suffering in the 
blast ; an inclement winter having commenced, provisions be- 
come scanty, and that distress which precedes sickness of heart, 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 245 

and recklessness of conduct, being depicted in every countenance, 
Wasiiington determined to make a dash upon the enemy, to recover 
the lost tone of feeling, or perish in the attempt. 

" Oh light and force of mind, 



Next to almighty in severe extremes !" 

On the 26th of December, the advanced guard of the enemy were 
surprised and beaten at Trenton, with a slight loss on the side of 
the victors. Hope again illumined our horizon. The soldier felt 
the life blood flowing more warmly in his veins, and even the halls 
of Congress resoimded with the accents of eloquence, dictated by 
hope of ultimate success. This victory was followed up by that 
of Princeton, in which the gallant Mercer lost his life. 

Immediately following these events, the European nations began 
to look with interest on the scenes taking place in this country. At 
the commencement of this year the chivalrous and patriotick La- 
fayette came to assist us in our cause. The skirmishes which were 
daily taking place, more often than otherwise, eventuated in favour 
of the continentals, and the militia of the several states. 

The next important circumstance, in the military history of our 
country at that eventful period, was the taking of Burgoyne and his 
army at Saratoga, on the 17th of October,' 1777. This was truly 
the deciding point of the conflict ; all who were doubtful of the 
issue before were settled in opinion now ; and this was the general 
impression, not only throughout this country, but in a large pro- 
portion of Europe. This event was so important in all its bearings 
on our national affairs, that I feel bound to give this portion of our 
history in a bolder relief than I have, or can, any other epoch in our 
military character and history. 

General Burgoyne had, by his representations to the ministry of 
Great Britain, induced them to furnish him with an army of ten 
thousand men, with which he promised to come from Canada by 
the Lakes Champlain and George to the North River, and from 
thence to New- York -city; thinking that by thus separatiug the 
south from the north-east, it would so divide and dispirit the Ameri- 
can forces, that they would soon yield to such terms as the British 
were disposed to offer them. He, with a large body of regular 
troops, and a considerable body of Indians, came to the fort at Ti- 
conderoga, the most formidable work in North America. It had 
been taken from the British by Col. Ethan Allen, early in the spring 
of 1775, after the battle of Lexington, and before that of Bunker 
Hill ; and was, when Burgoyne reached it, garrisoned by a conside- 
rable army under General St. Clair, who had no apprehensions for 
X2 



248 LECTURES ON 

the safety of his fort. This fortress was an old French work of 
great strength, and of gigantick dimensions, with walls from six to 
ten feet in thickness, with a covert way to the waters of the lake. 
When the British army arrived in the neighbourhood, all was tran- 
quil for several days, when it was, to the surprise of the Americans, 
found that a blockhouse had been erected on Mount Defiance, an 
eminence which overlooks the fort, and had been heretofore con- 
sidered inaccessible to human foot, holding it in entire command. 
St. Clair at once determined on evacuating his strong hold, and to 
make his escape in the night ; this was attempted, and a few suc- 
ceeded in making their escape ; but a great proportion of the forces 
were taken or slain on their retreat. This was a dreadful blow to 
the feelings of the north and east. Ticonderoga was considered 
safe. It was an important post, and was dear to us from the pro- 
fusion of blood which had been shed there. The progress of the 
British army became alarming ; and from every quarter of New- 
England and New- York they mustered without much regularity or 
order, to stop its progress. Stark marched with the New-Hamp- 
shire forces under the express condition that he should not be joined 
to the continental forces. He had been irritated at what he con- 
sidered neglect, in the selection and promotion of officers, after 
Washington formed the army at Cambridge ; and on no account 
would be placed under continental officers. The American army 
every day increased ; but this did not alarm, in the slightest degree, 
the British general. His army was full of gentlemen of high rank 
at home ; six of them at that time were members of Parliament, and 
others were of the first circles of fashion in England. They had 
thought the campaign would only be a mere pastime. With this 
body of troops were several elegant women, who had followed the 
fortunes of tlieir husbands across the water, and through the wil- 
derness 5 among them M^as the Baroness of Riedesel, whose husband 
commanded the Grerman troops. She was a splendid woman; 
gifted with genius, and blessed with an education of the highest 
order, in the most polished courts of Europe: she was destined to be 
the best and most pathetick historian of that memorable expedition. 
The Baroness had a daughter born in this country, and from the 
kind treatment which she received here while a prisoner of war, she 
gave the child the name of the country — America. Lady Harriet 
Ackland was with the army ; her husband was the gallant Major 
Ackland, who afterwards fell in a duel defending the American 
character for bravery. Lady Balcarras, a woman of great spright- 
liness, was also in the circle, besides a great number of ladies of 
less note, but of high taste and accomplishments, the wives of offi- 
cers less known to us than those we have mentioned. 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 247 

The Americans had rapidly assembled, and the British comman- 
der moved on to Saratoga. When he reached the heights of that 
place, he found his opposers so numerous, and so difficult to deal 
with in every foraging party, that he thought it best to fortify his 
camp as soon as possible. This was done with great skill, for Bur- 
goyne had been bred a soldier, and had with him also some of the 
most scientifick men of the British army ; many who had been bred, 
as well as himself, in the school of Frederick the Great, who was 
then living, and watching the movements of this revolution with 
great interest. 

Burgoyne had, on his entrance into the territory of New-York, 
published a manifesto, which did not evince that good taste for 
which the General had been distinguished ; but probably he mistook 
the taste and feelings of those he came to subdue. This manifesto 
was answered by Washington in a very forcible manner. This 
answer contains satire and argument conveyed in the most elegant 
language. Its spirit is also fine and bold ; the gasconade of the 
English commander is met with manly defiance, and he was worsted 
before the battle commenced, in a way he hardly expected. Bur- 
goyne was said to have been a natural son of Lord Bingley ; some, 
however, think that he had still more important relations. In 1762, 
he had a command in Portugal. After his return to England, he 
was chosen a member of Parliament, and became a privy counsel- 
lor. Gallant, gay, learned, eloquent, and in the full sunshine of 
patronage, he had taken the command of the northern army, and 
indulged the hope of a brilliant campaign. The fates were against 
him, and he was obliged to give up all his splendid visions of glory, 
and prepare to defend himself before his king and country. In this 
he was able ; and one would think that he had oifered a sufficient ex- 
cuse for every thing but his ignorance of the foe he was to meet, 
and his staying so long on the frontiers after St. Clair's retreat ; but 
for this also he had a plausible excuse. The British ministry were 
mortified and distressed at this unexpected failure ; and to turn the 
popular indignation from themselves, they were obliged to sacrifice 
their favourite. They ordered him to return forthwith to America 
as a prisoner ; but this was not insisted upon ; yet, he was obliged 
to resign all his offices and emoluments, which were very consider- 
able. He was still returned to Parliament, or held his seat there 
from a previous election, and joined in the opposition to the con- 
tinuance of the war; warmly contending that America would pre- 
vail. From the peace of 1783, he lived a retired life, until the 4th 
of August, 1792, when he died, as it was stated in the papers of that 
day, by a fit of the gout in the stomach. An American royalist, 
who was in England, and resided within a few doors of his dwelling 



248 LECTURES ON 

informed me that he fell by his own hand, a prey to disappointment 
and neglect. There never arose a man in Great Britain who for a 
time held so many important offices, and on whom so much reliance 
was placed, of whom the world knew so little. A mystery hung 
about him from the cradle to the grave, and that, too, in a country 
where there are but few secrets of any domestick or political 
nature. 

The American army engaged in this enterprise, contained many 
fine officers. Schuyler was a man of great good sense and experi- 
ence, having been an officer in the war of 1755 to 1763. He pre- 
ferred to assist in saving his country, rather than to put it in jeo- 
pardy by resentment at losing the honour of commanding the 
army in the campaign of 1777, after he had prepared the forces for it. 
General Morgan, the bold and intrepid Virginiaji, was there, and 
most efficient in the discharge of his duties, as he was through- 
out the whole war. Arnold was also one of the most intrepid 
soldiers in the campaign. Lincoln was there also ; he was one of 
the most bold and discreet of the revolutionary generals. Brooks, 
whose share in this event, every historian of the war has celebrated, 
and with whose merits the present generation have been made ac- 
quainted, lived to give us many minute circumstances of the taking 
of Burgoyne, which otherwise would have been lost ; Dearborn 
and Hull had their share in the honours of that day ; and many 
more who deserve the meed of honour from the future historians, 
who may arise to give to distant ages the deeds of the men who 
fought and bled to achieve the liberties we now enjoy. 

In this year, 1777, there were fifty thousand troops composing 
the British army for the carrying on the American war. Twenty 
thousand under Sir William Howe ; ten thousand under Bur- 
goyne ; four thousand imder Sir Guy Carleton at Quebeck, and 
sixteen thousand at New-York and Nova Scotia. These troops were 
supported at an immense expense, and it had cost great sums to tran- 
sport them to this country. Their bounty money, equipments, 
transportation, and support for six months, was at least an hundred 
pounds sterling a man. From this period, the war was not pushed 
by England, as it was expected to have been. They seemed to 
wish to exhaust the patience of the Americans, as they were satis- 
fied that it was impossible to conquer them by constant fighting. 
The American and English troops often came in contact, with 
varied success, but the enemy soon found that this was not a war to 
be decided by a few battles ; for when they thought the provincial 
troops entirely routed, these very forces were forming again in 
the neighbourhood, and preparing to harrass those they had not 
force enough to subdue. The affairs at Stoney Point were well 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 249 

conducted, and those at Monmouth and Guilford Court House, if not 
of vital importance to the American cause, or if they could not be 
called absolutely victorious, were, all things considered, rather en- 
couraging than otherwise ; and that at Eutaw Springs was suffi- 
ciently decisive to lead directly to those measures which terminated 
the war, by the taking of Lord Cornwallis and his army at York- 
town. I have not mentioned these battles with the intention of 
giving any sort of account of them, but only to show what energy 
of mind was exhibited, and what exertions were called forth at 
every period of the revolutionary conflict. That there were mo- 
ments of depression, and instances of faint-heartedness, cannot be 
denied ; but from the opening of the drama until the curtain fell, 
the acting was, in general, noble, and more or less brilliant and 
successful as the scenes shifted. Unity of plan, and stability of 
purpose, were evident from the beginning to the end. 

Each state might justly be proud of the share of talents and cou- 
rage it furnished for this long and bloody conflict ; which diminish- 
ed the population, exhausted the resources of the country, and 
stagnated business from Georgia to Maine. The floods of paper 
money which had poured forth in torrents, had become worthless 
as the fallen leaves of Autumn ; penury and distress were the re- 
wards of the brave and the patriotick; and many of those who 
had fought and bled in defence of the liberties of the people, on 
returning home, saw their former earnings dwindled away, and felt 
that it was necessary to commence the world anew with injured 
constitutions and a soldier's habits. A good portion of them, 
thank heaven, were sufficiently elastick to rise from this depression, 
and to join in the great work of building up our free institutions, 
and of laying the foundation of our national prosperity. 

Those who perished on the field, and those who survived to join in 
the labours of civil and political life, for many succeeding years, should 
not be forgotten by us their descendants. It is the duty of the legis- 
latures of every state to make the greatest exertions to do justice to 
her portion of these heroes. It is indeed a national subject, but each 
state have better means, or tliose more directly within their reach, to 
give their history to the world. Most of those who have been engag- 
ed since the days of the revolution in the affairs of the nation, or 
who at the close of the war retired to private life, are gone ; a few only 
remain, and these few are noAv imploring the representatives of the 
people for some remuneration for their labours and privations 
endured half a century ago. 

The generosity of the nation to Lafayette, has met, throughout all 
this republic, with universal approbation. The old soldiers were 
willing that the gallant general should know and acknowledge the 

32 



250 LECTURES ON 

truth, tliat republics were not always ungrateful ; yet he could not 
compreliend Ihe reasons that operated in preventing his own officers 
from coming in for a share also. It is but seldom that legislative 
bodies are induced to do generous acts ; these ought not to be ex- 
pected of them often ; but when such acts are found in the statute- 
books, they should be transferred to the pages of history, and preser- 
ved as a perpetual memorial, from generation to generation. The 
liberality of the United States to Lafayette, should be handed down 
as one ; and along side of it should be placed the pension law, which 
relieved the wretched soldier who was wasting the last sand of his 
life in hopeless indigence. The construction of this act for the re- 
lief of these war-worn veterans was narrow, cold, and cutting, but was 
dictated, however, by prudential motives, and perhaps, on the 
whole, was for the best, as parsimony might have obtained a repeal 
of the law which distributed the bounty that justice had attempted to 
secure. Has the country gone far enough in tliis liberal work 7 Is 
there not a debt due to the few surviving officers of the revolution ? If 
popularity is one object of legislation, (and why should it not be, 
when the people have the means of judging as well as their rulers ?) 
what easier or more direct course can there be pointed out to find it, 
than by doing an act of justice to these venerable relicks of another 
and a former age ? Who is there bold enough to say aught against 
the law passed for the relief of the poor soldier ? No one, in any 
place, and at any time, has murmured aught against this deed of jus- 
tice and honour. Not even the ambitious politician, haranguing be- 
fore those who had a vote to give only upon the promise of retrench- 
vient and reform, ever ventured to promise that he would use his 
exertions to have the pension law repealed. No ; nor has the miser, 
when nightly visiting his hidden stores, cursing taxation for every 
national object, ever breathed a syllable against the pension law. 
The language of his heart is, demolish the capitol ; sink the navy ; 
disband the army ; raze your fortifications to the ground ; disperse 
your national legislature ; secure with locks and bars yoiu* treasu- 
ry; but avarice never suggested to him to wish for the repeal of the 
pension law. 

Those who, in cases of danger, do deeds of gallantry in feats against 
the enemies of our country, should be properly maintained while liv- 
ing, and duly honoured when dead. This course will secure a suc- 
cession of brave defenders of our country in every emergency. Not 
all of a nation's gratitude and bounty should be lavished on a few 
distinguished individuals, but only on those who discharge their duty in 
a manner worthy notoriety. The first thing to be done is to see that 
they do not suffer for the comforts of life ; the next, that when 
dead their names shall be recorded, for their descendants to be 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 251 

able to look back on their deeds and services, as a stimulus for them 
to do likewise when called to act in similar situations. Those 
worthy of more consideration for services and sacrifices, should have 
monuments erected to their memories in places where the citizens 
are most interested in their fame — among their kindred and descen- 
dants. These records, history should take in charge, and give such 
pages in her annals as the departed may deserve, or their country's 
gratitude decree. We are doing something at all these, for the old 
and brave defenders of their country ; but have we done enough 
for their merits, or our honour ? Montgomery has a monumental 
slab to tell his merits, although his ashes reposed for forty years 
unmarked by even a rude stone. Some few others have been re- 
membered also; momentary excitements have been evinced, and 
at times have produced honourable results. The Bunker Hill asso- 
ciation is, of all we have seen or heard of, the best. It originated 
in a good spirit ; a feeling of patriotism and gratitude ; and is pro- 
ceeding regularly and systematically. The monument they will 
erect, rises slowly but Avill stand permanently. The stone and 
mortar they may put together is but a small part of the plan sug- 
gested. The society is hereafter to be the repository of all the 
relicks of the antiquities of our country, and will keep a perpetual 
vigil upon Time, that his followers. Carelessness and Oblivion, may 
be robbed of their power to deface his records. 

The treasures of a nation consist in the virtue and knowledge 
they possess, and in the character of their fathers, with the institu- 
tions they left to their posterity. As a people enjoy the property, 
it becomes a matter of principle to preserve the memory of those 
from whom they inherit. Except in some rare instances, the nation 
at large cannot take care of the fame of individuals. In small 
communities, a distinguished individual is well knoAvn to every 
member of the body politick ; but when a country is very exten- 
sive, this is seldom the case. The reputation, then, of our worthies, 
in every high place in life, or in every walk of intellect, must be 
preserved by those of the kindred and friends, and people dwelling 
near the scenes of his actions, and within the atmosphere of his 
virtues. The smallest ecclesiastical or civil association should be 
impressed with this duty. Let the parishes begin ; the towns and 
cities, counties and states, will follow. Some record should be 
made of the character and sei'vices of every one who acted his 
part with honour, at or near his death. This obituary, made short 
and simple in the parish record, might be expanded in those of the 
town or city, and when the services had been considerable, they 
wo\ild of course be enlarged, from time to time, as their merits 
were more fully disclosed. We are now indebted for half our facts 



232 LECTURES ON 

in the biography of our countrymen, particularly those of an early 
date, to some pious effusions of the pastor of his church, at 
the death of the parisliioner. The wish to know and be known 
has been, and ever will be, one of the great springs of human 
action. Hence, in ancient days, the connexion between the poet 
and tlie liero was sacred ; and every one who harnessed himself for 
the fight, knew if he fought well, that he should not be forgotten 
when he slept in death ; for the life of his minstrel was not subject 
to the chances and accidents of war. These minstrels noted every 
incident of battle, and their productions were scattered through 
Greece ; and were chaunted at every festival, until Homer came, 
and by his all-powerful grasp of genius, compressed them into one 
unextinguishable flame of light and glory. It has been said, that 
science, in ancient days, invented.lamps which burned perpetually 
in the tombs of tlieir heroes. This was only the metaphorical 
language of the heroick ages, and only meant to convey the thought 
that the poets and historian had bathed in perpetual light — that 
light which is the fire of their own genius — the worthies they chose 
to commemorate and immortalize. The love of fame is as ardent, 
and as universal now, as it was then, in every man ; but the nations 
are not so susceptible' now, as in the days of Greece and Rome, or 
in the ages of chivalry. The local importance of a man is not, 
and cannot be conveyed to the remote parts of a distant land, and 
not lose something of its altitude and dimensions. A political 
popularity is often occasional and transitory, and like a burst of 
smoke, is soon swept away by some countervailing current of the 
popular breeze ; but that reputation which consists in thinking 
right and acting well, is often as permanent in this as in any pre- 
vious age. Every day some new road is opened to the temple of 
Fame, and the votaries are as ardent as ever. The ambitious 
man, perhaps, reaches the fane first, but the wise one secures the 
niche in which he is to repose forever. The politician should write 
his deeds upon the pillars that prop the state ; the man of science 
and letters should embalm his reputation by his works ; and when 
the soldier shall be inquired for, the answer should be, " he rests 
with all his country's honours blest." Saints and philanthropists, 
who blush at the reputation of their own good deeds, cannot be 
forgotten, for Fame has them in special charge ; her commands will 
forever be imperative. 

" Rise Muses, rise, add all your tuneful breath, 
They shall not sleep in darkness and in death." 

The best of all honours that can be paid the dead, is a grateful 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 25a 

remembrance of their services ; but as we are constituted, some 
sensible, tangible memorial, is indispensably necessary to keep their 
deeds fresh in our memories ; hence, in every age and nation, monu- 
ments have been erected, and inscriptions written, to perpetuate the 
fame of those who were distinguished among men, in their day 
and generation. 

The character of a country is involved in the honours paid their 
dead. Immediately after the death of Washington, the representa- 
tives in Congress, penetrated by grief at the exit of this great man, 
and feeling, at the moment, a deep sense of gratitude for his long 
and invaluable services, passed a resolution, requesting the presi- 
dent of the United States to solicit Mrs. Washington, the relict of 
the general, to consent that his mortal remains should be at the 
disposal of Congress. The ansAver of Mrs. Washington, to this 
request, is delicate and dignified. 

The seat of government A\^as then at Philadelphia ; but was to be 
removed the next year to Washington City. Only one wing of the 
capitol was then built; but, in the plan of the whole building, the 
rotunda was to be as large as it now is; and in the ground story of 
this was to be a tomb for the burial of the father of his country. 
This suggestion, perhaps, does honour to their feelings, for the 
moment, but is no credit to their taste and judgement. The sleep- 
ing place of the dead should be in consecrated ground, uncontami- 
nated by party strife or unhallowed bustle. 

The subject, after the first moment of grief, was suffered to die 
away, but the plan remained on paper ; and when the dome was 
erected, after the wings were destroyed by fire, the foundation of it 
was constructed in the form of a large cemetery. The intentions of 
Congress were not carried into effect ; the mighty shade of Wash- 
ington could not be sufficiently sanctified to the living, in such a 
place. If the dead walk abroad in the majesty of ethereal nature, 
it would find no consolation here. The crypt, just over the tomb, 
has, until the past year, been the haunt of unclean birds, in various 
forms. To have placed the sacred dust of Washington in such a 
proximity to vice and profligacy, would have been high profana- 
tion. It is well that the country have yet the debt of erecting for 
him a tomb to discharge, because, a better taste has sprung up, and 
been cultivated ; and the nation must, and will redeem her pledge, 
and give the illustrious hero and patriot a monument worthy his 
name and the ability of the country. Europe and Asia are adorned 
with numerous monuments of departed greatness. The classical 
tourist finds them at every step in ancient cities and villages in 
Europe, and the adventurous traveller in the east, counts the pyra- 
Y 



254 LECTURES ON 

mids and temples erected to the honour of those who once shook 
the earth with their power and pride — or to the sons of genius, who 
have filled the world with their glory. Many of these monunients 
have been spared by time, who leaves, for the contemplation of 
man, only a few relicks of past ages. These are the records that 
the thinking and the wise are anxious to read and understand, while 
they pass by myriads of living men, in the same countries, without 
interest or notice. These monuments, covered with the hoar of 
ages, and en wrapt in a spell, never cease to charm the man of 
curiosity and taste ; and, at the same time, they aid the learned in 
penetrating the depths of ancient lore. They are the remembran- 
ces of what have been, and the teachers of what shall bej the reve- 
lations of past ages, and the prophecies of future times.* 

It has been the fate of many of our revolutionary heroes, who 
were of secondary rank, to sink into the grave unhonoured and un- 
known. They died in discharge of their duties, and were, perhaps, 
named in a passing remark, and then thought of no more by the 
great mass of the people. This was in some measure excusable, 
when the nation was struggling for existence, and all classes were 
devoting their lives and fortunes to the sacred cause of freedom. 
But the present generation are at ease, and in the enjoyment 
of the earnings of their fathers, and therefore ought to rescue any 
deserving name from oblivion. We are a generous people in our 
sympathies, and have mourned over the fate of the unfortunate 
Andre, who fell a victim to the laws of nations, in the prime of his 
life, for the very reason that his case has been presented to us in 
every form of prose and verse by those of his own country, and we 
read all they write ; while one of our kindred and brethren, as 
young, as accomplished, and as unfortunate as Andre, has hardly 
been mentioned by an obituarist or historian. Nathan Hale, a martyr 
in the cause of liberty, is a name almost unknown to his country- 
men; but it is time that we should be familiar with his reputation. 
He was born in Connecticut, and was graduated at Yale College, 
in 1773, with exalted reputation as a scholar, and a lofty, high- 
minded man. He was contemporary Avith Dwight, Barlow, and 
Humphreys, who often mourned his untimely fate, and cherished 
his memorj' by toasts and eulogies. Some of the lines of Dwight, on 
the melancholy occasion of Hale's death, are still extant ; they breathe 
the affection of a friend, and are almost too true, solemn, and pathetick, 
to be poetical. It was a dark and gloomy period in the history of 
our country; and he, with many other young men, caught the spark 
from their fathers, in fact, anticipated them in preparing for the great 

♦ See Appendix, note B. 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 256 

struggle that was to ensue. At the moment the war broke out, he 
obtained a commission in the Connecticut hue, and took the com- 
mand of a company in Col. Knowlton's regiment, and was with the 
army in their memorable retreat from Long Island, in 1776. After 
Washington had succeeded in an enterprise so much favoured by 
Providence, he was for a while ignorant of the movements, num- 
bers, or disposition of the British army ; and anxious to get all pos- 
sible information of their movements or intentions, he applied to 
Col. Knowlton for a discreet, intelligent, enterprising, and bold officer, 
to penetrate the enemy's camp, and bring him the desired informa- 
tion. Knowlton made known the request of the commander in 
chief to Hale, who was the charm of every polished circle, and the 
delight of the army, the soul of honour, and " bravest among the 
brave." At the first moment it was named to him, he shrunk at the 
thought of becoming a spy ; but reflecting that it Avas Washington 
who required his services, and his country that was to be benefited, 
perhaps preserved, by his accepting the arduous and perilous ap- 
pointment, he gave up all scruples, and instantly prepared for the 
adventure. He passed in disguise to Long Island, examined the 
British camp, and having satisfied himself on every point of his 
mission, he was apprehended on attempting to return ; and being 
carried before Sir William Howe, and finding every thing was known 
to the enemy, he boldly declared himself and his object in visiting 
the British camp. Howe, without a trial, or even the forms of a 
court-martial, ordered him for execution the next morning. He was 
confined for a single night, and had only an opportunity to write a 
few lines to his mother and sister. As he had led a religious life, 
he asked for a clergyman to attend him in his dying moments, but 
this request was denied, and he was not permitted to have even a 
Bible for a moment's consolation. A guard of pitying soldiers, with 
the provost-marshal, attended him to the fatal tree. The provost- 
marshal, the common abhorrence of the camp, excited a more than 
ordinary share of disgust, by the brutal manner in which the wretch 
executed his victim. The firmness and composure of Hale did not for 
an instant desert him, and he died regretting that he had but one life 
to lose in the sacred cause of his country — the cause of freedom and 
the rights of man. The veteran soldiers wept like children at his 
vmtimely fate, wondering that a rebel could die so much like a hero. 
The letters that he had written were destroyed ; for they were so 
full of fortitude, resignation, and consciousness of duty, even m this 
great sacrifice, that it was thought dangerous to let the Americans 
know that they had ever had such a man. When the news of his 
execution reached the American camp, every one, from the com- 
mander in chief to the humblest soldier, looked as if some general 



256 LECTURES ON 

calamity had overtaken the army. If his death was just, the manner 
of it was execrable ; and a deep and settled resentment was mingled 
with their grief, which was not forgotten in the future events of the 
war. It was policy, perhaps, in the methods of reasoning in the 
British army, to strike terror into the hearts of the American sol- 
diers, and to frighten them at once to allegiance. They knew not 
the people they had to deal with ; for they were not to be shaken by 
threats, nor awed by terror. They could have been won by kind- 
ness, but this was never shown them. Lictors and the axe were 
too honourable for men who had dared oppose the mandates and the 
arms of the mother country ; the accursed tree alone would answer. 
Little did the executioners of Hale think that such an awful hour 
of retribution was coming as did come. 

It is valiant to fight bravely when our firesides and altars are 
invaded. He who falls in such a conflict, sleeps with all his coun- 
try's honours blest : monuments and epitaphs are given him, and 
his children find a rich inheritance in his fame. But what is this to 
staking one's life and reputation together — and staking them for 
love of country; to throw off" the garb of distinction, which is, and 
should be, a soldier's pride, and covering one's self in disguise, for 
the purpose of visiting, in secresy, an enemy's camp, to discover 
his nakedness or strength, not for one's own fame or emolument, 
but for the general good ?, It is above the common martyr's fame ; 
above his glory. It is, if it can be justified at all — and nations, 
polished, wise, and noble, do justify it — the highest of all mortal re- 
solves. To die is nothing ; to sleep in the bed of glory is a common 
lot, often an enviable one, and sliould never be contemplated with 
horror by a brave man who draws his sword in a good cause ; but 
to think of the chances of an ignominious death, a dishonoured grave, 
closed without funeral knell, or muffled drum, or "volley of solemn 
soldiery ;" Oh ! it is too much to tliink on ; and can never be en- 
dured without dismay, unless the living fire of patriotism is burning 
with all its fierceness and unquenchable intensity. 

The execution of Hale was avenged before the war was over, by 
the death of Major Andre. Justice was stern and inexorable in his 
fate ; but her decrees were not disgraced by brutality. Andre was 
tried by a court-martial, and had an opportunity to defend himself. 
His time was protracted beyond that usually allowed a spy; he was 
treated with kindness; allowed to communicate with his friends; 
to write to his kindred ; to dispose of his property; to do every thing 
but escape his sentence, which the laws of nations would not suffer, 
and the severe law of retaliation, often a preventive of the progress 
of bloody crimes, forbade. For Andre's fame the British nation have 
done every thing ; reared him a monument, pensioned his mother 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 257 

and sisters, transported his bones to his native land, and laid them 
in the tomb of royalty. It is in vain that we ask our countrymen, 
Avliere sleep the ashes of Hale 1 

The gallant Pole must not be forgotten : Pulaski was as chival- 
rous as a baron of romance. He landed upon our shores an exile, 
and threw the energies of his character into our cause — the cause 
of freedom and of man. He preferred the wilds of America to the 
refinements of European courts, to most of which he would have 
been welcome. With the enthusiasm of a crusader, he drew his 
sword in our cause. Military glory and love of freedom were the 
strong passions of his soul. His ancestors were soldiers ; and ma- 
ny of them fell, foremost in the fight, while the glow of early man- 
hood was upon them, and slept in the bed of honour. He felt, and 
declared, that to be alive with a head white with the snows of age, 
was a stain on his family name ; and he feared, in the wild and 
romantick valour of his soul, that a winding sheet unstained with 
blood would be disgraceful to him. If Pulaski saw not the close 
of the contest, he died as he wished, in the fury of the fight, and 
rests in his grave in a warrior's shroud. No solemn dirge, no 
peaceful requiem, soothed the hero's shade ; the hasty funeral rites 
of the battle-field alone were his. Such honours only were suited 
to the genius of the dead. His monument is about to arise. 

Nor shall that milder, but more pure and lasting light of bravery 
and virtue fade from our gaze. The youthful, patriot-warrior, 
Kosciusko, will forever rank high among our revolutionary wor- 
thies. He was devoted to arms from his birth: a shield was his 
cradle, and the instruments of war were his playthings in childhood. 
In the joyous days of youth, the gravity of years was on his brow. 
Nurtured by the great, yet he felt for the humble. Liberal in po- 
litical sentiment, beyond the age in which he lived, he burst from 
the saloons of beauty and tne sunshine of courts, to share the fare 
and the fate of a republican soldiery, in a perilous and a doubtful 
contest. His generous bearing and high attainments secured to him 
the confidence and admiration of the officers and soldiers of the 
north and south. All loved him as a brother; and Washington 
carried him in his bosom, as a child of his warmest atlections. At 
the close of the conflict, he snatched a coal from off" our altar of 
freedom, and kindled it upon that of his own country; kindred 
spirits gathered around him, and freedom, for a while, smiled on 
their efforts ; but the time, in the destiny of nations, for the eman- 
cipation of Poland, had not come. Kosciusko survived his coun- 
try's second thraldom, and passed the remainder of his days in the 
bosom of retirement— the pride of nations, and an honour to the 
human race. He sleeps with the mighty dead of his people ; but, 

33 



258 LECTURES ON 

as yet, no monument marks his resting place ; the honour of rear- 
ing the first pillar to his name must be claimed by us ; but it did 
not arise from a resolve of Congress, nor from a statute of a state 
legislature, or from the sympatliy of compatriots ; no — his monu- 
ment sprang up from the spontaneous resolve of a generation, born 
long since Kosciusko left our shores; from a body of youthful 
patriots, devoted to the attainments of science and the practice of 
arms, for the future defence of their country; for the cadets, at 
West Point academy, this deed was reserved ; their Campus Martis 
was his beloved retreat; here he meditated new deeds for himself, 
new glories for Poland. 

Besides the good and great La Fayette, there are others among 
the French troops came to our aid, that should not be forgot- 
ten. Several never returned to their native country ; one of them 
is the subject of the following notice. When a permanent seat 
of government was determined on, and that to be laid out on the 
banks of the Potomack, an engineer of talents and experience was 
sought for by Washington for this service. Pierre C. L'Enfant, an 
officer of the French army, who had come to our shores to assist 
in achieving our independence, was selected by the president to 
superintend the business. His views were on a most magnificent 
scale, and those of his great employer were, perhaps, equally 
expanded. The engineer began his work with the enthusiasm 
of a Frenchman, and identified himself with the future glory of 
the federal city ; and why should not the man of science be re- 
membered, as well as the patriot and politician ? He knew but little 
of the elements of a republick. L'Enfant was held in high con- 
sideration during the life of Washington, Adams, and Jefferson. 
He had nothing avaricious in his nature, but only wanted honour- 
able employment and competent means of subsistence. 

While engaged in superintending the building of Fort Warburton, 
now Fort Washington, nine miles below the city of Washington, 
he was dismissed from the publick service. Tlie scanty means of 
the treasury ill comported with the plan he had designed, and was 
then proceeding to execute. He thought that the fort defending 
the metropolis of this great republick, should be on a scale that 
imperial engineers should admire, and those of our country should 
imitate in all future ages of their greatness. On being dismissed, 
his proud heart was near breaking. His accounts were ordered to 
be audited and settled; but he spurned to receive the amount due him, 
which was said to be very considerable. The country owed him 
employment ; he wanted no pension ; he would receive no wind- 
ing up settlement on being thrust out of office. The country 
should be every way indebted to him, was his mode of reasoning. 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 259 

He lived several years after he was deprived of his employments ; 
and still in the city he had planned. ' He was proud and full of his 
wrongs ; he never could forgive the pitiful spirit that deprived him 
of duties to perform, and means to live. So far did he carry this 
feeling, that he never would lift up his eyes to look towards the 
fort he had been building. In these latter days he was seen in all 
seasons of the year, taking his long walks over the high grounds of 
the city, silent and alone — not even mvittering his wayward fancies, 
but wearing the calm, solemn, dark look of wounded feeling and 
inflexible resentment. In the independence of his soul, he shrunk 
from sympathy, and turned with a sense of degradation from the 
offers of the generous and kind hearted. For years he wore the 
same thread-bare long French coat, and thin nankin pantaloons, 
and folded his arms on his breast, as it were to keep the citadel, 
the heart from growing callous, or being overcome by its own 
griefs and resentments. The people, in general, of Washington, 
thought that his brain was touched by his injuries. Those who 
knew him well, knew all was sound there ; the disease was on his 
heart. His great friend, and revered general, was now dead ; his 
ashes were reposing at Mount Vernon, and those who had come 
up since, knew but little of him. L'Enfant was brave, generous, 
and manly, to the last. When the British were in possession of the 
city, and most of the inhabitants had fled in every direction, he 
went about in every street and square, to find those females who 
could not fly, or had courage enough to stay ; and consoled them by 
assurance that the enemy would not disturb them ; and on this oc- 
casion seemed to wake to new life himself : and assuming a cheer- 
ful manner, he entertained them with every thing a Frenchman, a 
wit, and a soldier, could command, to make them tranquil and con- 
fiding. The English troops knew, from his martial air, that the 
old gray-haired man had once set a squadron in the field ; and they 
had so much respect for the veteran, that he wandered where he 
pleased, and was listened to with attention when he spoke. He 
died about ten years since. There is no monument erected to his 
memory; no epitaph has been written to condense his history, or to 
evince our gratitude. There were some generous spirits in the 
city, who strove by every delicate courtesy to soften the hardships 
of his closing scenes, and in some measure succeeded. He was too 
sensitive to be approached directly; but true generosity never hesi- 
tates to assume almost any shape, to do good to the unfortunate, who 
still preserve a lofty bearing. 

It is now but little more than half a century since the first settle- 
ments were made in Kentucky ; and now the whole valley of the 
Mississippi swarms with an active and adventurous population en- 



260 LECTURES ON 

joying the comforts and elegancies of life, and cultivating the arts, 
sciences, and letters, with zeal and success, vying Avith her elder 
sisters of the republick for the palm in improvements and taste. 
The man who first led the way to this fruitful land, and who 
built the first habitation for civilized man in the wilderness beyond 
the mountains, cannot be too often remembered, or too much 
noticed. The history of Boone, if not entirely unique, belongs to 
the romantick spirit of the early ages. A short sketch of him 
may be acceptable to many. 

He was born in Maryland, in 1746 ; but removed to the moun- 
tains of Virginia, when only eighteen years of age. Here he 
led the life of a hunter, then a profession known and respected by 
the agriculturists and other classes of society. He loved the rifle 
and the flaying knife more than all the implements of peaceful, 
quiet industry. The dangers of such a life had no terrors for him ; 
the risks incident to it gave a zest to existence, known, perhaps, 
only to the brave and enterprising hunter himself ; but can in part 
be imagined by those acquainted with his character. In 1769, 
Boone extended his travels to Kentucky. If he was not the first 
hunter who had ventured so far, he was the first who induced his 
countrymen to follow him, in order to make a settlement in these 
remote wilds. From 1769 to 1775, he visited the country, and ex- 
plored it pretty thoroughly, regardless of the hardships and depri- 
vations he endured, and in this latter year brought his family from 
Virginia, with others, to plant a colony in a plain now known by 
the name of Boonesborough. He was made a captain under the 
last royal governor of Virginia, but his native elements were all in 
favour of freedom ; and he, or some of his followers, were camped 
on the spot where the largest city of Kentucky now stands, when 
the news of the first act of the revolutionary conflict reached them. 
Fired by the same spirit which animated their distant Atlantick 
brethren, they shouted for the fight, and consecrated the spot by 
giving it the name of Lexington, the name of that sacred ground 
which drank the first blood that was shed in the war of indepen- 
dence. The personal conflicts, the hair-breadth escapes, the suc- 
cessful onsets, the repeated victories of Boone, would make a volume. 
These will no doubt be written ; but there can be no excuse necessary 
for giving him a passing notice when his deeds are so directly be- 
fore us. It is said by those who knew him, that there was nothing 
fierce or savage in his nature ; no love of blood, no passion for con- 
test in his disposition ; but he loved freedom, loneliness, and enter- 
prise. He feared no hardships, and shrunk from no dangers, 
when necessity or duty prompted him to act ; yet was at all times 
the most cautious of men. He met the wiles of the Indian with 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 261 

still greater. At times they took him for a good, and at other times, 
for an evil spirit. When tliey tliought they had him in their power, 
he Avas gone ; and often when they believed he was on the other 
side of the hills, or over the prairies, he was upon them, to disperse 
or destroy tliem. Their arrows did not reach him, nor their balls 
wound him, and at last they became convinced that " he bore a 
charmed life." 

Boone had but little acquaintance with books; his study was na- 
ture and man. He abhorred that state of society which was too 
much trammelled by rules, and enslaved by fashion. The forest, 
the river, the prairie, the buffalo, and even savage man, had more 
charms for him than villages or cities. It was refreshing to his 
soul to breathe an air untainted by other breaths. He loved room ; 
hated all restraint, grew restless in a country where hunting grounds 
were turned to fertile fields ; and felt half his manhood depart from 
him in a society where he could not level his rifle to avenge his 
own wrongs ; yet Daniel Boone was a good neighbour, and a fast 
friend ; discreet, charitable, hospitable, and affectionate ; but he 
enjoyed the musings of the deep solitudes, and felt the conscious- 
ness of his own superiority in proportion as he felt the necessity of 
relying on his own resources. 

A world of anecdotes are afloat, which show his great traits of 
character : his daring, his fortitude, his perseverance, and elasticity. 
It is a Avell authenticated fact, that once being pursued by the In- 
dians, he came to a precipice, on the borders of a river ; when his 
pursuers were close on his back, he leaped from the bank, the astound- 
ing height of fifty feet, before he reached the light and wavy top of a 
tree, whose lithe branches had been climbing for years to catch a 
glimpse of the sun, above the edge of the precipice. This springy 
bed received him as he spread himself out; and he let himself down 
from branch to limb, imtil he fell to the margin of the stream, with 
only a fev/ scratches, and some little derangement to his moose-skin 
dress. He forded the stream, and then poised his rifle in defiance 
at his pursuers. The most fierce and adventurous of the children 
of the forest gazed with wonder at this feat, and set down his suc- 
cess to preternatural power ; but Boone knew his fate if taken ; the 
stake, the fagot, the slow-consuming fire, with every insult savage 
ingenuity could devise, or ferocity suggest ; and he preferred the 
chance of the leap to the certainty which would follow capture. 
The leap could be only death, the capture torment and death to- 
gether. 

The sagacity of Boone in making his pathway in the forest was 
superiour to his great teachers, the Indians. In this science they 
frequently yielded to his superiority. The stars that lighted his 



262 LECTURES ON 

path, and directed his course, seemed to shed their influence on his 
mind ; for by them lie counted the long hours of the night with 
more than Clialdcan accuracy. This wandering life kept his mind 
bright and active. His recollection was so perfect, that for twenty 
years or more, after he had blazed a tree, or marked it with his 
name, he would remember where it stood, even if fallen, by its stump, 
and the make of the land around it ; and sometimes when his opinion 
was disregarded, as being thought impossible that he should remem- 
ber, on removing or turning the log from it, proofs of his correctness 
became visible. 

In process of time, the very wilderness he first subdued became 
too populous to suit his taste and habits ; and he felt himself an- 
noyed at the whole mass of laws the progress of civilization re- 
quired, and which were enacted. The disputes respecting bounda- 
ries ; the quarrels about meum and tuum, gave him distress ; for he 
remembered the time when all was mine., and when miles and acres 
were not thouglit of, and he could not bear to mention feet and 
inches. Getting involved in some of these disputes about boundaries, 
and finding no longer that reverence which was once paid him as 
a patriarch and a leader, he, in the language of a border people, 
'pulled up stakes, and took up his line of march for Missouri. In 
Kentucky, he had seen the wilderness blossom like the rose., where 
he once strayed as the only white man ; but he did not take delight 
in walking in the garden, and in cultivating flowers. He prefer- 
red Diana of the chase, to Flora, Ceres, or the whole train of the 
divinities of civilization and taste. 

Such a hfe, it cannot be contended, gave either refinement or 
grace, or letters or science, to the man ; but it gave a peculiarity 
and an elevation to his character, that all the courts of Europe could 
not teach. He was not destitute of letters or numbers; indeed, he 
had enough of each for all his purposes ; to which he added a science 
which is only learnt in such a school as his, a familiarity with all 
the indices of nature, whether they related to the formation of the 
surface of the ground, the flow of the river, the growth of the forest, 
or the haunts and tracks of animals. He followed with more than 
ordinary hiunan sagacity the fox to his den, the bear to his cavern, 
and the beaver to his dam. To prove to himself that he had not 
lost his skill with his rifle, he shot, with a single ball, the humming 
bird, as he sucked the opening flowers, and spread his tiny wings, 
and presented his exquisite colours to the sun ; and brought down 
the soaring eagle as he poised in majesty over his head, disdaining 
the power of the nether world. In the ungoverned spirit of the 
immeasurable wilderness, he reasoned, he felt, and acted, as "th*^ 
monarch of all he surveyed." To such a man, the soft allurements o 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 263 

polished society would be less attractive than the beauty of the in- 
sect's wing, or the '■^slight hair bell," which he had trodden under 
foot, or those immense regions of flowers, that had for successive 
ages tcasted their suiectness on the desert air. Civilized man 
has no standard by which he can measure the operations of such a 
mind ; he must go back to primitive ages to find a parallel ; and then 
strip the travels of Theseus, and the labours of Hercules, of all the 
monstrous fictions — and what would the remainder be in comparison 
with the adventures and hardships of Boone. The whole country 
which these demi-gods of antiquity traversed, did not extend so far 
as one of Boone's hunting excursions. Bordering upon eighty years 
of age, Boone died in the interiour of Missouri, having known but 
little of the decay of faculties, corporal or mental. In the language 
of political economy, he knew nothing of the powers of accumu- 
lating. He thought the whole extent of the continent to the Paci- 
fick his territory, and intended to push on to its confines, as neigh- 
bours, within fifteen or twenty miles, began to trouble him ; or until 
he should find a grave in which his bones might moulder with those 
of the buffalo he had chased to the farthest west; but his fame will 
not go down as the fame of the mighty lords of the forest, with 
whom he so often struggled ; for he has left children among the 
reputable of the land, and connexions or friends in many places, 
who will cherish his memory, treasure up the incidents of his life, 
now living only in tradition, and give them to the historian, the 
novelist, the painter, and the sculptor, to transmit them to posterity 
in the forms of truth and fancy, and perpetuate his name as the 
great pioneer of the west. 

Soon after the close of the revolutionary conflict, the militia of 
the several states were organized by their respective governments, 
with more or less attention to discipline, to be prepared for future 
attacks from without, or commotions within. The political atmos- 
phere was not, as yet, serene or settled, and each state was watch- 
ful of her own security and quiet. After the adoption of the fede- 
ral constitution, there was a national organization of the militia, on 
paper; but, in truth, it was nothing more. It answered merely as 
some guide in drafting men, if they should have been wanted for 
service, but the nation did nothing for their instruction or discipline. 
The sagacious mind of Washington perceived that our martial 
spirit would soon wane in days of peace, and the knowledge of 
tacticks in the country be lost; he, therefore, recommended the 
founding of a military school, for the instruction of the youths of 
our country in the science and the art of war, on an extended plan, 
after the military academies of the old world ; but so much was to be 
done, to carry into effect our newly adopted government, and an 



264 LECTURES ON 

Indian war still hanging on our borders, that it was not estab- 
lished in his day. Mr. Adams, his successor, still urged the neces- 
sity of sucli a school ; but the agitation in this country, from the 
French revolution, delayed the execution of the plan again. It was 
reserved for Mr. Jefferson, the third president of the United States, 
to see a military academy commenced. It was, in him, more a 
passion for science, than a love of the art of war. The beginnings 
were small, and the school, for several years, although it is said it 
was weU managed, did not attract much publick notice ; business of 
all sorts was brisk in this country, and most of the enterprising young 
men were engaged in mercantile or professional pursuits. 

Tlie plan fixed upon for the site for this institution, was, in all re- 
spects, the most suitable that could be found in the country. West 
Point was an important station during the revolutionary war. This 
point is on the right bank of the Hudson, about sixty miles from the 
city of New-York As you pass up the river, its appearance has 
nothing more striking in it, than many other views on this majes- 
tick and picturesque river ; but, on ascending the bank, the panora- 
ma is noble ; a plain, of about seventy acres, is opened before you ; 
the river flows on the east and north of you, and is wide and deep ; 
a ridge of mountains stretclies from the south to the northwest, of 
various heights, from five hundred to fifteen hundred feet. The 
up-rivej- view is very extensive ; steam boats are clearly seen ten and 
twelve miles off. The city of Newburgh, situated at the distance of 
nine miles from West Point, is in full view. The impression on the 
mind, as you look around you, on this point, is that of a vast thea- 
tre, peculiarly fitted for defence, safety, and that deep solitude, so 
necessary to bring do^vn the attention of youth to the severity of 
profound studies. There is something classical, as well as romantick, 
in the situation. The vestiges of other days are still visible there ; 
among which, are the ruins of an old fort, on the banks of the 
river, and those of fort Putnam, about half a mile distant from the 
river, on a high hill, commanding, in military language, the whole 
plain below. From this rocky eminence, issues a fine stream o^ 
pure, cold water, which, being directed to a reservoir, is conducted 
by pipes to the valley, in great abundance, for the use of all the 
inhabitants. West Point is not only beautiful, and convenient for 
the pui-pose to which it is devoted, but is one of the most healthy 
places in our country. The buildings for the use of the cadets 
are large and convenient, but, as yet, are not sufficiently numerous 
for two hundred and eighty cadets, and their instriictors ; but the 
good feelings of the people are with this institution, and the govern- 
ment will not fail to patronize it. 
The cadets are now under the best of all possible regulations. 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 265 

The constant occupation of their time has a most salutaiy effect on 
their habits, and intellectual as well as corporal discipline. Their 
temperance generally lasts through life ; for they acquire, with the 
practice of abstemiousness, the scorn of indulgence. The Spartan 
severity in discipline is mental as well as corporal. The course of 
studies is of a high order, and well calculated to give firmness and 
tone to the mind, and is so perfectly absorbing, as to prevent those 
dreamy wanderings, so enchanting to the young in the bowers of 
taste and the halls of learning. The votaries of science and the art 
of war, have no time to court the muses or invoke their inspiration. 
The knowledge acquired at this institution is as useful in peace as 
in war. As civil engineers, the graduates of West Point are of in- 
calculable ad^'antage to our country ; an immense territory is yet 
to be surveyed, and its capacities ascertained. The uses of this in- 
stitution are not confined to its members ; the fine examples it has 
set in mental and corporal education, have been extended to other 
institutions of instruction. It has solved the problem in the minds 
of fathers — how much labour will the youthful mind bear? and has 
taught tender mothers, that their darling sons may endure hard 
marches, and sleep " on the tented field," without injury to their 
growth or beauty ; for healthier young men I never saw than the 
cadets of West Point ; if they lose by their discipline something of 
the bloom and ruddiness of youth, it is more than made up in the 
firm step and strengthened muscle seen in the elastick movements 
of the corps in their military evolutions.* 

The cadets are arranged on tlie list of honour, according to their 
merits. This is an admirable device ; it produces emulation, breaks 
down the aristocracy which finds its way every where, even in our 
republican country, and builds up an order of intellectual merit. 
Genius and application make out their own patents of nobility. 

The physical force of our country is incalculably great. It is 
science alone we want, to be irresistible to all invaders; and through 
the medium of this school we are to obtain it. To be convinced 
that it is a school of morals and manners, as well as of science, one 
need only reside a few days at West Point, and become acquainted 
with the officers of the institution. A warm and deep interest in the 
academy, and a high respect and friendship for the superintendent 
of it, united to many pleasant recollections of attentions from his 
officers, induced me to write out a pretty full account of it ; but in 
looking over the hasty sketches I have made of other and older insti- 
tutions, I was constrained to curtail my remarks, and to content 
myself with the reflection, that it will not want for faithful and 
able historians. 

* See Note C, Appendix. 
Z 34 



266 LECTURES ON 



LECTURE XV. 



■ Yesterday, while I was at the metropolis, the news of a naval victory was 
received. To have witnessed the effect that it had on all classes in society, 
would have annihilated all your old prejudices against a navy. The streets 
were thronged with people, walking briskly, or stopping to reciprocate con- 
gratulations ; men shook hands, who never had spoken to each other before ; 
joy sparkled in every eye ; every bosom palpitated with delight ; pride swell- 
ed in every vein. Every one seemed to look on his neighbour, as a braver 
and a better man than he had ever before thought him ; every sailor, as he 
passed the streets, was greeted with repeated cheers. I started for home ; and, 
as I rode through the country, every oak 1 saw, I said to myself, that will do 
for ship-timber; every pine seedling, growing up for ornament, I was anxious 
to see ripened into " the mast of some great ammiral." The naval actions of 
all ages and nations crowded on my mind — Phoenician, Greek, Dutch, 
French, English — even the unequalled fights of our Saxon, and Danish an- 
cestors, with their " Steeds of the Ocean," came rushing to my mind; memory 
seemed to give up her dead for the glory of the occasion. As I passed through 
Marblehead, the welkin was ringing with shouts of victory ; mothers joined in 
the general joy, whose sons were in the fight — not knowing whether they 
were living or dead. The Ocean-Spartan matron had no tear to shed ; there 
was no cowardice or disgrace in the battle ; if the boy was dead, he died in 
the discharge of his duty. As I reached my native village, parson Make- 
peace was in the pulpit, ascribing glory to God for the victory. The chair- 
man of the selectmen made a speech ; I followed him ; heaven only knows 
what I said — but the speech was applauded, until the old meeting house 
shook to its centre. Never tell me again, that the peaceful pursuits of life 
will make a hero ; they are created by such mon?ents of ecstasy as these. 
There is not a creature, who bears the image of man, in the whole of the 
United States, however tame his blood, that would not fight like a lion, if 
called into action at this moment. I believe, in my soul, that this naval vic- 
tory has exalted the character of every man, woman, and child, in the whole 
country ; and, if I may be allowed the expression — and what shall I not be 
allowed in this moment of holy enthusiasm? — it will give an impulse to 
unborn ages. 

Jonathan's letter to his coitsin Buckskin. 

Our country not only puts in her claim for her military prowess, 
but also for her naval feats of skill and bravery, from the early 
days of our existence. The colonial settlements were stretched 
along the seaboard, through many degi'ees of latitude, and fine rivers 
were found navigable far mto the interior. The ocean was, at first, 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 267 

looked to for a part of their sustenance, and soon regarded as one 
of the means of prosperity God and nature had put into their 
hands, for the purpose of increasing their wealth, strength, and hap- 
piness. They coasted from one settlement to another, for trade and 
friendly intercourse. As early as 1635, before the stump from 
which the first tree was cut, had withered, our ancestors began the 
business of ship-building. In August, of that year, a ship was built 
at Marblehead, and called the Desire. This vessel was employed, 
probably, as a regular trader between this country and England ; for, 
in 1640, March 1st, the Desire, (says Winthrop, in his journal,) a 
ship built at Marblehead, went from hence, (Boston,) and arrived 
at Graves-end, in the Thames, in twenty-three days — a proof that 
this vessel was a good sailer, however fortunately the winds might 
have blown. Soon after this period, from the abundance of timber, 
vessels were built in this country, by agents, for the commercial pur- 
poses of Great Britain. Models and master-builders were sent out 
very early; and, at no time, have the colonists been backward in 
learning all the wisdom of the mother country, in whatever shape 
it was to be found. 

In 1690, when the first expedition was fitted out against Canada, 
the New-England states furnished a large proportion of the trans- 
ports ; and, long before this period, every colony had one, or more, 
ships of war, of considerable force. In the attack on Canada, after 
this, in 1710 and 1717, Massachusetts furnished the transports, for 
troops and provisions. 

In the war of 1745, it is said, by several writers, and lately men- 
tioned in that excellent collection of facts, Walsh's Appeal, that the 
colonies had four hundred privateers on the ocean. In this calcu- 
lation, the Avriter must have included all the small boats, which went 
out to harrass the French commerce. In this war there were se- 
veral hard fights, and many prizes taken. Capt. Rouse, of the Shir- 
ley galley, of twenty guns, in company with Capt. Cleves, brought 
in eight ships, prizes taken from the French, with their cargoes, 
" ninety thousand mud-fish," meaning what we now call bank-fish. 
For this exploit. Rouse was made Post-Captaui m the British navy. 
In October, the same year, the Bomb Ketch, commanded by Capt. 
Spry, took a French ship of sixteen guns. These were the most 
conspicuous cases; but there were many captures, which history 
has not recorded, and which I shoidd have been able to have ob- 
tained from the records of the Admiralty court, of Boston, the only 
one then in New-England, had not the records been carried off by 
the judge of Admiralty, in 1775, who was a tory ; and most of the 
cases were not named m other places. At the time of taking Louis- 



268 LECTURES ON 

bourg, the naval force of the provincials was highly respectable. It 
would not, perhaps, be tedious to name it. 

Ships — Massachusetts Frigate, Capt. Tyng, - - 20 gims. 

Cesar, Capt. Snelling, - - - - - 20 

Shirley Galley, Capt. Rouse, - - - - 20 

Snow— Prince of Orange, Capt. Smithurst, - - - 16 

Brig — Boston Packet, Capt. Fletcher, - - - 16 

Sloops , Capt. Donahew, - - - 12 

, Capt. Saunders, - - - 8 

, Capt. Bosch, - - - - 8 

Rhode Island ship, hired for the purpose, and 

commanded by Capt. Griffin, _ _ - - 20 
From Connecticut, there were two armed vessels, 

the Thomson, - - - - - - 16 

and the Colony Sloop, ------ 16 

New-Hampshire sent her colony sloop, as did Rhode Island, which 
were probably of about sixteen guns each. 

The fisheries were nurseries of this navy. These fisheries had 
been carried on to a great extent, for several years. In 1732, the 
town of Marblehead, alone, had one hundred and twenty fishing 
schooners. Many other towns on the seaboard, also, were engaged 
in the fisheries, as well as Marblehead, but not to the same extent. 
The whaling fishery was then pursued by many on Cape Cod, and 
soon afterward at Nantucket. These fishermen were the hardiest 
of all the sailors in the world. The employment, with them, was a 
matter of choice, not of necessity, as land was yet plenty in the mar- 
ket. These sons of Neptune were accustomed to all climates, from 
the equator to the Frozen Ocean. They feared no enemies, nor 
storms ; and the man who had harpooned a whale, was not to be 
daunted at the appearance of any other foe. 

In the war of 1755 to 1763, there was a great call for our sailors, 
not only on the ocean, but on the lakes." Privateers were making 
depredations on the French commerce in the West Indies, and in 
the mouth of the St. Lawrence. The ship carpenters and seamen, 
built and manned the naval force on the lakes. Besides several 
sloops of considerable size, there were built in two seasons on Lake 
George, more than a thousand boats, capable of carrying from twenty 
to thirty men each, besides others for the artillery, of which in the 
attack on Ticonderoga by Abercrombie, there was a very consider- 
able force. These boats were built with timber much of it brought 
a mile or more, on the shoulders of the labourers who constructed 
this armament. The wrecks of some of them may now be seen at 
the bottom in the clear waters of that beautiful lake. 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 269 

Our people lost none of their enterprise from the peace of 1763 to 
the commencement of hostilities in 1775 ; in fact these twelve years 
were full of exertion in extending our commerce and settling the 
frontiers. 

After the war had begiui in earnest, Washington gave commission 
and authority to take, and bring in, such vessels as our cruisers 
could capture, belonging to the Britisli government, on the high seas. 
By virtue of this authority, several rich prizes were taken, some of 
them loaded with munitions of war, which came timely to the 
American army. Severals vessels being private property which 
had been taken by these cruisers, were promptly released. Con- 
gress sanctioned his proceedings as justifiable jand proper, and at 
once turned their attention to a naval force. #i 1776, they appoint- 
ed twenty-four captains of the navy, and a few lieutentants, leaving 
it to the naval committee to appoint the others ; and, at the same 
time, authorised the building of sixteen ships of war, and several 
smaller vessels. This, with the force which was then already in 
the possession of the several states, a part of which were sold to 
Congress soon made a respectable naval force. The work of build- 
ing went bravely on, for the merchants were deeply interested in it, 
and readily loaned the money to government for their building, or 
trusted the national contractor, for materials necessary in getting 
this naval force into effective operation. Some of the ships Avere as 
large as thirty-two's, and from these down to four's. After this, 
larger vessels were built, but only one seventy-four, hoAvever, and 
she was never in our service. These were commanded by brave 
men, and there was no act of cowardice known in the American 
navy during the revolutionary war. There might have been a few 
instances of indecorum and Avant of discretion, but none of coav- 
ardice. 

But to be a little more minute in this history, as it is important 
to examine our beginnings as a nation, in November, 1775, the legis- 
lature of Massachusetts passed a spirited act, by which they autho- 
rised and encouraged the fitting out of private armed vessels, to 
defend the sea coast of America, and at the same time created a 
Court of Admiralty, to try and condemn all vessels that should be 
found infesting the same. The preamble to this act was written 
by the late vice president, Mr. Gerry, and it is a bold and an in- 
genuous exposition of the sovereign rights of the people in such an 
exigency, founded on tlie royal charter of William and Mary, under 
which the atfairs of the province of Massachusetts had been ad- 
ministered for more than eighty years. The body of the act was 
penned by Mr. Sullivan, late governor of Massachusetts, an early 
and firm patriot of the revolution. On the 16th of December of 
Z2 



270 LECTURES ON 

that year, the government of Massachusetts, resolved to fit out ten 
vessels to go to the West Indies for military stores. On the 29th 
of this month John Adams and J. Palmer, were appointed by the 
legislature of Massachusetts, a committee to prepare and report a 
plan for fitting out armed vessels. On the 8th of January following, 
eight thousand pounds were voted for the purpose of making a 
respectable marine force for the province. On the 1 1th of January, 
1776, it was resolved in council, to build two frigates, one of thirty- 
six, and the other of thirty-two guns. On the 7th of February, it 
was resolved by the whole court to build ten sloops of war to carry 
sixteen gims each. Ten thousand pounds were appropriated to this 
purpose. Some of,these vessels Avere built, and some others were 
hired, so that Massaofcusetts soon had quite a respectable naval force 
on the high seas at their disposal. At the close of the year 1775, 
Congress commissioned several vessels of war, six sloops, and thir- 
teen gallies; but they were restrained to the taking of publick 
property. After the declaration of independence, and there was 
no prospect of peace for a season, or at least imtil Great Britain 
had tried the strength of the United Colonies, the marine was greatly 
increased, and twenty-four vessels were put in commission, and 
additions were made from time to time, to this respectable force. 
These vessels were commanded by high-spirited and intelligent 
men, and who were wonderfully successful ; for in the course of 
three years they had taken more than double the number of their 
own guns from the enemy, besides a great number of merchant- 
men of value. More than eight hundred guns had been taken from 
the enemy during this time, by the marine which Congress had 
fitted out; while that of Massachusetts, and of the other states, 
were equally successful. The vessels taken by the publick and 
private armed vessels from the battle of Lexington to the 17th of 
March, 1776, when the British evacuated Boston, amounted to thirty- 
four of considerable size and value, with excellent cargoes. The 
tonnage of these captured vessels amounted to three thousand six 
hundred and forty-five tons. In 1776, the British vessels captured by 
the private armed vessels, alone, amounted to the great number of 
three hundred and forty-two, of which forty-four were retaken, 
eighteen released, and five burnt. In the following year, 1777, 
the success of our privateers was stiU gi'eater. Vessels were cap- 
tured to the amount of four Inmdred and twenty-one. The success 
continued without any great diminution until 1780. At this time 
the British merchants made so strong an appeal to their government, 
that they provided a convoy for every fleet of merchant vessels to 
every part of the globe. Out of the fleet saihng from England to 
the West Indies, consisting of two hundred in number, in the year 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 271 

1777, one hundred and thirty-seven were taken by our privateers 5 
and from a fleet from Ireland to the West Indies of sixty sail, thirty- 
five were taken. Taking the years 1775, 6, 7, 8, and 9, say for the 
first year, thirty-four ; second, three hdndred and forty-two ; third, 
four hundred and twenty-one; and for the fourth, which has not 
been accurately given, I believe in any work, say, and this within 
bounds, two hundred ; and for the fifth, the same, two hundred 5 
and allowing but one hundred for the balance of the time during the 
war, will make twelve hundred and ninety-seven, without including 
those taken by publick vessels from 1776, to the close of the war ; 
and this latter number, if it could be precisely given, would add 
greatly to the list of captures. The marine, imdoubledly, fell off 
towards the close of the war, from several causes ; one, the difficul- 
ties in the finance of the country, and from the great exertions of 
the Admiralty of England in capturing our privateers. Tliey had 
become alarmed from the complaints of their merchants, and the 
rise of insurance against capture, which reached an extent unknown 
before or since. The French navy after that time joined us in the 
war, and was in itself so powerful, that our smaller vessels were 
not wanted to co-operate with the land forces as before. Besides 
the defence of Charleston and Philadelphia, which were engage- 
ments that ought to be ranked among the most memorable events 
in our revolutionary contest, there were others all along the seaboard, 
of less note, but in themselves spirited affairs. Rhode Island, 
Philadelphia, and Charleston, have high claims for naval distinction, 
and for constant efforts on the high seas during the war. 

Our naval affairs were managed by a marine committee in 
Congress, who were as active and efficient as their limited means 
would allow. They had the admiralty code of England and Hol- 
land before them, and took such parts of it as would answer the 
purpose of their design. The committee of Congress did wonders, 
considering their means and the difficulties they had to encounter. 
John Adams was an efficient member of this committee ; and, de- 
lighted with the course pursued by the merchants of the Nether- 
lands, in gaining their independence and raising their national cha- 
racter, he studied their state papers, ruminated upon their history, 
and found it wise to copy their policy. He was born and educated 
among a mercantile people, and was well acquainted with their true 
interest. He saw an extended seaboard, and knew it were folly to 
defend our harbours and seaports without a naval force. To him 
and his coadjutors are we indebted for the shape our infant navy took, 
and for the Herculean tasks she performed as it were in the cradle. 
It is not to be denied, however, that he had the cordial co-operation 
of all the efficient members in Congress in every state, whether 



272 LECTURES ON 

more or less maritime; for these enlightened men saw what a 
mighty engine of power this force might be made in a foreign war ; 
and they soon saw, too, how much a matter of gain it was in that 
day. John Adams has deservedly been considered the father of the 
American navy. His disposition was of that prompt, effective, and 
daring character, that made him delight in tlie naval glories of his 
country. He knew that Great Britain was henceforth to be sepa- 
rated from us, and that it was only by cherishing a desire for naval 
distinction, that we were ever to contend upon equal ground with 
her. This he declared almost as soon as he saw the conflict ga- 
thering, and the storm ready to burst, long before he had assisted 
the people, or their representatives, to brace themselves up for the 
declaration of independence. A naval force was thought by all to 
be necessary at that day. It was long since that period, that the 
establishment of this great engine of national defence was considered 
of questionable policy. Then the representatives of all the states 
concurred most heartily in doing every thing in their power to en- 
courage the increase of our naval force. The success of the priva- 
teers gave an elasticity and spirit to the people that nothing else 
could have given. It gave them wealth also, through the medium 
of entei-prise and valour. The seaports were full of the bustle of 
preparation for cruising and reception of prizes. Articles of mer- 
chandize were common, and of a quality the frugality and economy 
of our people had never permitted them to think of before. These 
articles were of use to citizens and soldiers, and the sale and pur- 
chase gave a specious form to business. A great part of the capital 
on which they were obtained, was the hardihood and daring of the 
people. This success inspired the army likewise ; for they saw that 
sailors of a new creation could meet, and dared fight, the hardy sons 
of Neptune born in old England, and educated in the best of fleets 
in the world ; and that these veterans were often found to yield to 
American sailors of but a few months discipline on the high seas. 

In the bustle that privateering created, the loss of lives and limbs 
was forgotten, and the pride of conquest, and the joy of the posses- 
sion of property won by daring, concealed the pain of many wounds, 
and perhaps healed a great many that a want of success might have 
festered and rendered immedicable. In an army, individual bravery 
seldom finds an opportunity for display, while in these sea-fights 
almost every one had an opportunity of showing his prowess. 
Tliese mariners on board a privateer were sharers in the success of 
every enterprise, often a better, or stronger motive for brave deeds, 
than the sound of a name. It was often that they had an oppor- 
tunity of selecting the commander under whom they would serve ; 
and men so situated, are generally sagacious in discerning the 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 273 

merits of their siiperioiiri? ; particularly when that merit, in a good 
measure, consisted in overt acts, of which they were as good judges 
as men of higher grades of mind, and of higher rank in society. 
Several of these commanders of privateers were men of original and 
commanding talent, and deserve to be handed down to posterity, as 
well as the leaders of small bands in the primitive wars of the classical 
ages. Manly, Mugford, Jones, Waters, Young, Tucker, Talbot, 
Nicholson, Williams, Biddle, Hopkins, Robinson, and many others, 
who were either in the service of one of the state sovereignties at that 
time, or in the service of Congress, have been noticed by the Avriters 
of biography in times past ; but there are many more who are equally 
%vorthy of notice, who have been neglected, because they were only 
commanders of privateers. It ought however to be considered, that 
our vessels of Avar were small, and did not in general carry more 
giuis or men than some of our privateers at that time ; and the com- 
manders of both classes of vessels, those of the United States, and 
those of private citizens, were educated and trained alike, and had 
equal sagacity, skill, and success. Scarcely a day passed, from the 
summer of 1775 to 1780, that the people were not animated with the 
news of some sea-fight, and generaUy victory Avas on our side ; for 
these privateers were built for quick sailing, and when they thought 
the fight would be at odds against them, they out-sailed the enemy, 
and escaped to annoy them in some other quarter. These comman- 
ders, in general, Avere men of standing, honour, and principle, and 
never suffered themselves to sink into petty tyrants, or lawless buc- 
caneers, in their manners or feelings. Instances of the most mag- 
nanimous conduct among them might be given. lii several cases of 
capture, Avhen they understood the OAvners Avere friendly to the cause 
of America, the vessels and crews were suffered to depart without 
losing a particle of property. In the vessels taken by these priva- 
teers, as in the publick armed ships, the oflJicers Avere never deprived 
of their baggage, and often Avere alloAved their adventures, if their 
owners had allowed them such privileges, and they had any on 
board. Some few of these commanders of privateers have lived doAvn 
to ovir time. 

John Lee, one of the race of men almost sui generis, Avas well 
knoAvn to the lecturer several years ago, and his reputation stood 
among his felloAvs as the bravest of the brave. He was born in 
Marblehead, a place renoAvned in the annals of our country, for pro- 
ducing a succession of mariners of the boldest, hardiest, and most 
muscular, and above all, the most humane that any country or age 
could boast. That place had the honour of building the first ship of 
any considerable size, that Avas constructed m our country, the one 
mentioned in the first part of this lecture ; and of encouraging the 

35 



274 LECTURES ON 

cod-fishery in the early days of our history, when the business was 
hardly knoAvn, except in the vicinity of that place. Lee was bred u 
saUor, and from his talents and connexions, soon came to the com- 
mand of a vessel. He was engaged, at the commencement of the war, 
for his connexions, the Traceys, merchants of great distinction at 
that time, as a captain of one of their private armed vessels. He first 
sailed in a vessel carrying six iron guns, with several wooden ones 
for a show ; and during this cruise he took a heavy armed merchant- 
man, which he sawjust before night, but his vessel was so low in the 
water that she was not discovered by the merchantman. Lee came 
near his enemy when it was dark, with indistinct lights extend- 
ing beyond the bowsprit and from the stern of his vessel, which gave 
her the appearance of great length. The English captain, thinking 
it were idle to contend with such force, as he thought her from this 
stratagem, struck his colours, and as his men came on board of Lee's 
small vessel by boat loads, they were secured ; but when the English 
captain came on board, and saw how he had been deceived, he at- 
tempted to kill himself, but was prevented by Lee, who by gentle 
treatment soothed his wounded feelings. Lee had in his composi- 
tion the pure elements of a sailor ; a fine constitution, great activity, 
and a fearlessness that was the admiration of all. He was as gene- 
rous as brave, and shared his honours with all who acted with him, 
and his wealth with every one who sought him. At one time, Lee 
was a prisoner in a murky dungeon, for what was called insolence 
after being captured ; at another time, flushed with victory, over foes 
of twice his power, he was active in showing his kindness to the cap- 
tured. On one day he was found rolling in riches, and on another 
with clothes hardly sufl[icient to keep off the blast : thus he passed 
through the revolutionary conflict ; but there was never a moment 
when his genius cowered, or his spirits were broken. If ever he 
changed at all, it was that his pride increased as his fortunes were 
unpropitious ; and he grew more forbearing when in the flow of 
prosperity. For many years he poised himself on his honesty and 
good intentions, and swore away all religious thoughts ; but in the 
latter part of his days, he became an enthusiast in religion; and his 
zeal in praising God equalled his fury in the fight ; but time, reli- 
gion, and reflection, gave a new form to his cast of character ; and 
the once boisterous captain, whose oaths were louder than the nor- 
thern blast, became so meek, so mild, so patient, so exemplary, that it 
was a study and a delight to see and hear him. When the most cruel 
fit of the gout was upon him, and nature was sinking with her agonies, 
he had the sweet serenity of the saint ; and the eyes which once 
flashed the fire of indignant and indomitable pride, were now beam- 



A3IERICAN LITERATURE. 275 

ing with the radiance of heaven inspired hope : such changes there 
are in the hves and in the characters of men. 

Wingate Newman, was another of these gallant souls, who inspired 
the Avorld with confidence. lie often said that he could obtain a 
crew in one hour for a twenty giui ship, if there were men sufficient 
for the purpose in the port. His character was that of amenity and 
distance, united to great personal strength, and with that princely 
generosity which attracts and secures the confidence of inferiour 
minds. " He was made for an admiral," was the common saying of 
his crew, and they relied on his judgement without thinking that he 
could possibly do wrong. In times of peril, genius finds his natural 
altitude. A thousand years of peace would never bring a hero from 
the crowd. If the British navy had not existed. Nelson might have 
been a curate of forty pounds a year. 

To show the men we possessed, and the versatility of their talents, 
I will name another of the active spirits of that day. Michael Tit- 
comb was a person of a colossal size, and of wonderful strength. He 
served as soldier and sailor with equal facility. At one time, he was 
an officer in Washington's guards, and received a letter of commen- 
dation for his daring and officer-like conduct in the discharge of a 
dangerous and important duty. At another, he was found a lieuten- 
ant on board of an armed ship, performing prodigies of valour. At 
the peace of 1783, he took the command of a merchant vessel ; but 
when our navy was equipped, in 1798, he was again called into the 
service, and proved that he had lost nothing of his native fire and 
personal strength. Every sailor in the navy had some wonderful 
tale of his feats of strength. He had considerably passed the prime 
of life when I first knew him ; but his constitution was firm, and his 
physical energies but slightly impaired ; but with this great strength, 
he was one of the most quiet and peaceable of men, and constantly 
acted in fear of the effects of his own corporal powers, when insulted 
or assailed ; the only thing he could fear. If so disposed, we might go 
on for many a page with such instances of worthy men, who served 
their country in the perilous conflict which gave us national exist- 
ence : and who shall say that they ought not to be remembered ? 
But my purpose is now only to give the characteristicks of the age, 
and not the biography of those men who made up our strength and 
glory at that day. The naval exploits of Arnold on Lake Cham- 
plain, in 1776, ought not to be passed over in silence. The subse- 
quent conduct of this iU-starred commander ought not to keep out 
of sight what he, and those under him, did, when he was true to his 
country, and fought in her cause. He was not able, it is true, to 
meet and conquer his foe on the lake, but he made a noble defence 



276 LECTURES ON 

with what force he had. Some of those under him on the lake 
were both soldiers and sailors. 

Colonel Wigglesworth had been educated a scholar, was after- 
wards a sea captain, factor, and merchant, and had then taken the 
command of a regiment. He had made naval and military tacticks a 
study ; and perhaps no man then in the country, was more accom- 
plished in all the offices he had held, than Col. Wigglesworth. In 
this victory, if victory it may be called, of Carlton on the lake, there 
was nothing for the enemy to boast of, and nothing for this country 
to regret, except the fact that our fleet was not equal to that of the 
enemy. The genius of the place on}y waited for a coming age, to 
bind the laurel on the brow of the young republick. The lake-god 
saw the treason in the man, and reserved his water-greens and his 
corals for the brow of one who was as virtuous and patriotick as 
brave. 

In 1785, all the vessels of this country were sold off, and we re- 
mained without a navy for nearly ten years : still the people were not 
less maritime. They waited for an opportunity to commence anew 
on a better plan. Numerous small vessels were not wanted, but a 
few efficient ships were indispensable, for national defence and na- 
tional dignity. 

Commercial enterprise is the mother and the nurse of naval 
greatness. No sooner had our country formed a government, and 
established a code of marine laws, than our daring navigators ex- 
plored every sea. They had before been acquainted with the bays 
and harbours to a high northern latitude, having visited them for 
whales and furs ; but they now entered the Baltick, pushed farther 
up the Mediterranean, swept round the Cape of Good Hope, visited 
China, the English East Indies, and all the straits and islands of 
those seas. This was not all ; they followed the path of Cook and 
Vancouver ; visited all parts of the Pacifick, and began a profitable 
trade on the North West coast. The whalers followed them ; and 
supplied our own, and other countries, with oil of a better quality 
than had been before used. In these voyages were bred the best of 
seamen ; innured to every climate, and accustomed to all varieties 
of savage men, they feared nothing in human shape. The best of 
sailors were at hand, as soon as they were wanted to man our ships 
of war. They required no drilling for naval service, every man 
could throw a harpoon, manage a great gun, or take any post he 
was appointed to fill. The protection afforded our seamen, is one 
reason that they are so energetick. They are, indeed, a privileged 
class ; for, while every able bodied citizen of a certain age, is liable 
in time of war to be drafted for military duty, the law does not 
allow of a press or a draft for sailors. They ship by their own free 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 277 

will and accord, under which commander they choose, either in a 
merchantman, private armed vessel, or publick ship of war. They 
feel as freemen and act as such. There is no doubt but that feature 
in our navy can be preserved, as the population of the country will 
keep pace with the increase of our navy ; and commerce and the 
fisheries will still continue the nurseries for seamen. 

In 1794, a proposition was brouglit forward for creating a navy, 
and after a sharp debate, a bill was passed by a majority of two only, 
in the house of representatives, for building four forty-four's and two 
thirty-six's. The most experienced and skilful ship-builders in the 
country were sought for, and employed, and the work began in 
earnest. Humphries and Hacket, master builders and modellers, did 
themselves great credit by the specimens they produced. In 1798, 
and 1799, this country had built up a considerable navy ; six forty- 
four's, three thirty-six's, seven thirty-two's, and from fifteen to twen- 
ty, or more, smaller vessels of war. This sudden creation of a naval 
force showed the maritime world, what the resources and energies 
of our nation were, whenever they should be pushed to develop 
them. In 1798, the nation were in a state of agitation, and the 
secretary of war, who was then charged with superintending the 
concerns of the navy, addressed a letter to tlie Hon. Samuel Sewall, 
chairman of the committee of the hovse of representatives for 
the protection of commerce, and the defence of the coxmtry, con- 
taining his views of the necessary preparation for the exigencies of 
the times, to protect our territory, property, and sovereignty. 
All our naval forces were soon put in requisition. An act was pass- 
ed in May, 1798, which authorised " the president to direct our 
cruisers to seize, take, and bring into any port of the United 
States, any vessel sailing under the authority of the French Repub- 
lick, hovering on our coast for the purpose of committing depreda- 
tions on vessels belonging to our citizens," «Stc. In conformity to 
this act, Captain Dale, in the Ganges, who had been fitted out with 
limited instructions, received those of a broader nature, but still 
limited to come strictly within the act of the 28th of May. During 
the summer, others were ordered out, and our commerce in the 
West India seas was well protected. Until this period, we had no 
regidar and systematick arrangement in this department ; but at 
this period the cost of building and equipping the navies of other 
nations were examined, and rules for ovn- own were readily to be 
found m them, if in many items, they were considerably diflferent. 
The strongest argmnents were used to show the propriety of effi- 
cient measures, and were generally convincing and satisfactory. 
In this quasi war, as it was called by Mr. Adams at that time, 
the American navy took from the French Republick, from 
2A 



278 LECTURES ON 

1798 to 1801, between eighty and ninety armed vessels, and re-cap- 
tured many American vessels, which the French cruisers had taken 
from the citizens of the United States. The most conspicuous of 
the engagements in this naval contest, was that of the Constellation, 
Captain Truxton, and the Insurgent, of forty gims, and four hundred 
and nine men, in which the latter Avas taken ; and that of the same 
American ship and commander, with the Vengeance, a fifty-four gun 
ship, which escaped after she had several times struck her flag. 
The next in point of size was the Berceau, of twenty-four guns, and 
two hundred and twenty men, taken by the Boston, Captain Little. 
Captain John Shaw, in the Enterprize, of twelve gims, captured six 
armed French vessels, and re-captured eleven American vessels, in a 
cruise of eight months. In these engagements, in one of which he 
contended with superiour force, he took forty-seven guns and three 
hundred and seventy-nine men, and in all of them together, the 
enemy had thirty-one killed and sixty-six wounded. Although 
there were a few mistakes in the naval affairs of that period, yet, 
the whole course together, reflected the highest honour on our 
country, and gave evidence not only to France, but to the other 
nations, that we were fitted for a naval power, and should soon take 
oiu- rank with the nations of Europe, on the high seas. Many 
young officers distinguished themselves, and gave early promise of 
the high character which they have since sustained. The whole 
cost of the creation and support of this navy was short of ten mil- 
lions of dollars ; not equal to the revenue of our nation for one year 
of this war. 

Under the act of the third of March, 1801, all the ships and vessels, 
belonging to the navy of the United States, were sold, excepting 
thirteen, and these, mostly frigates ; they brought in the market 
but a small proportion of their original cost. This sacrifice was a 
matter of no importance, in comparison with the glory we had 
gained ; aye, something more than fame was gained. The success 
of our naval forces ta\ight, not only others, but ourselves, that it did 
not require the pressure of a revolutionary struggle, to make us a 
maritime nation, in the true naval sense of the word ; a nation who 
could make the greatest exertions to protect and extend a lawful com- 
merce, upon the broadest basis. Avarice might have wished us to 
have risked nothing ; and to have purchased our mercantile privi- 
leges, by debasement and sycophancy to other nations ; and timidi- 
ty preached to us a long homily upon the mighty powers of these 
nations, and entered into deep calculations upon the folly of risking 
any thing, when we were so weak and defenceless ; but, thanks to 
heaven, the proud spirit of our fathers prevailed, and the honour of 
the nation was not compromised by parsimony or cowardice. It 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 279 

seemed a dream 1o all the world, that a navy could rise upon the 
bosom of the ocean, by the power of an infant nation, in so sudden a 
manner. The fabled pines of Mount Ida were not formed into ships, 
for the fugitive Trojans, more rapidly, than the oaks of our pasture- 
grounds and forests were thrown into naval batteries, for the protec- 
tion of commerce, and our national dignity. Scarcely had it been 
published in the English and continental gazettes, that our navy was 
sold off, and that we were destitute of a sliip of war, before the seas 
were whitened with the canvass of a navy from our ports, that fled 
from no equal, and were caught by no superiour force. 

Scarcely had our differences with France been adjusted, before 
we were called to contend with a new foe ; and then the diminution 
of our naval force was sorely felt. During our existence, as colonies, 
our trade had been protected in the Mediterranean, by the naval power 
of the mother country ; but after the peace of 1783, the protection, 
of course, ceased, and we were obliged to purchase an immunity 
from capture and slavery, from the sovereignties of Morocco and 
Algiers. This tribute was galling to a free people, but nothing else 
could be done to save a valuable commerce, and we consoled our- 
selves that the most powerful christian nations have done the same, 
and some of them were still doing the same ; and in fact, all of them 
in some way or other were still tributaries. In the year 1800, an 
indignity was offered our flag by the dey of Algiers. The ship which 
was sent to carry our tribute was forcibly sent on a mission from the 
dey to his master the Grand Seignior, and although it was managed 
in such a manner as to produce in the mind of the master of the 
petty tyrant, a respect for the people of the new world, by the ad- 
dress of the American commander, still the insult was deeply felt in 
every part of our country. These powers on the coast of Africa 
were aterrour to every maiiner ; for he, who feared no storms, dread- 
ed captivity in these countries more than death itself. The Barbary 
powers, Algiers, Tunis, Morocco, and Tripoli, had been the scourge 
of Christendom for ages. They had been pirates for a thousand 
years ; from the time the Greeks had been driven from these shores 
to the present day, they had plundered the merchants trafficking in 
the Mediterranean, and made all persons they could get into their 
possession slaves ; and these unfortunate beings they either ransomed 
at a great price, or cruelly devoted to labour and insults of the worst 
character. Spain, France, England, Portugal, Denmark, and Swe- 
den, had suffered immeasurably from the corsairs of these piratical 
governments, whenever they refused to pay a tribute for their 
safety. These corsairs were adventurous and skilfid seamen, and 
lived and thrived on the depredations made on all "christian dogs," 
^ they insultingly called their foe. They often swept the Adriatick, 



280 LECTURES ON 

depredated on the coast of Spain, and Italy, and France, and infested 
all the seas of that region ; and sometimes ventured on the Atlantick 
in search of prey. At different periods of history immense efforts 
liad been made to subdue them. In the time of Ferdinand of Spain, 
he drove them from the seaboard, and for several years kept them 
in fear and dread of him ; but in 1615, Barbarossa, a Turk, and one 
who had been a corsair, got possession of Algiers, and by every 
species of cruelty and intrigue, extended his influence and power 
along the coast for some distance. He feh, as most tyrants have 
done, in violence and blood, and his brother became, for the security 
of himself and friends, a tributary to the Grand Seignior. The for- 
midable works erected by the Spaniards while they had possession 
of the country were destroyed ; and with thirty thousand christian 
slaves, then unransomed, he built the wall and other works which 
now defend the city. Spain and Italy, and all true christians, were 
in tortures at the treatment of their countrymen and fellow christians; 
and Charles V. of Spain, in 1641, made a bold effort to extirpate this 
nest of pirates at once. With one hundred and twenty ships, 
twenty gallies, and thirty thousand men and gentlemen, who had 
entered into it from religious views, as it was considered a holy war, 
he commenced his campaign. In this fickle climate the elements 
warred against himj and all this tremendous host were either de- 
stroyed by the tempests, or killed by the foe, or retiirned disheartened, 
notwitlistanding the bull of the pope, and the blessing of the cardi- 
nals and priests upon the holy expedition. France once in later 
years, in a fit of resentment, made a spirited attack upon them, but 
did not follow it up with any permanent efforts. It seems mysterious, 
but so it was, that the United States should be the first power in 
modern times who could, or who did, keep in check the corsairs of 
those seas ; and who dared to blow the castles round the heads of 
those who sought protection in them. 

In 1800, the bashaw of Tripoli was anxious to have tribute paid 
him also, and made his demand in a bold insulting manner. The 
Bey of Tunis also raised his voice for tribute. On the 15th of May, 
1801, the bashaw of Tripoli declared war against the United States. 
This was precisely the act our naval commanders were desirous of; 
but the horrours of slavery made a great impression upon the minds 
of some of our citizens, who clamoured to have every sacrifice made, 
that we might be kept in security ; fortunately this was not thegene- 
ral feeling. Before this declaration of war liad been made, the Pre- 
sident of the United States had sent Commodore Dale with a squadron 
of observation, consisting of three frigates and a schooner. His in- 
structions were full of caution, yet not wanting in decision. On the 
6th of August, 1801, Lieutenant Sterret, in the Enterprise of twelve 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 281 

guns, took the first Tripolitan ship of war, or the first of any of these 
Barbary powers which ever struck to our flag. The prize moimted 
fourteen guns ; she had twenty killed and thirty wounded in the ac- 
tion, but there was not an American injured. 

This fight fully showed our superiority in naval tacticks and gun- 
nery over any thing these pirates could produce. Early in 1802, 
a relief squadron was sent out to the Mediterranean ; Captain R. V. 
Morris was in command of it. The squadron was one of more 
efficiency than that of Commodore Dale's. It was well appointed, 
and provision made for ample supplies. In May, 1803, the bashaw 
of Tripoli proposed a peace; his sine qua non was two hmidred 
thousand dollars and the expenses of the war. The negociation 
was instantly given up, and these tenns considered inadmissible. 
He had become, however, quite tired of being blockaded in his own 
port. In Jime, Captain Morris was suspended, for it became appa- 
rent that he did not act with sufficient energy ; nothing brilliant had 
been done under his command. The trade it is true had been pro- 
tected, and probably he thought this the chief end of his duties. 
The secretary of the navy was not satisfied with this, and he ap- 
pointed Commodore Preble to take the command of the squadron. 
Tlais was a fortunate appointment ; Preble was a man of sterling 
talents, and well acquainted with his duty ; of the most cool and 
determined bravery, and was panting for some occasion for distinc- 
tion. He had with him some noble spirits, Bainbridge, Decatur, 
and others, cast in the same mould, and animated by the same soul 
with himself. The squadron had not only to blockade Tripoh, but 
to watch the moA'ements of Algiers, Morocco, and Tunis ; but on 
the dey of Algiers seeming m better nature than usual, and the em- 
peror of Morocco coming to terms, Preble made up his mind to 
attack Tripoli with what force he had, and a few gim-boats he had 
hired at Naples. On the 3d of August, 1804, he made the first at- 
tack. Tliese gim-boats gave our men an opportunity of showing 
their personal strength, science, and bravery, in attack and defence; 
for the combatants came, as in ancient times, hand to hand and 
breast to breast. The minute details of this and the other attacks 
on this city, would furnish a story of as much prowess and chival- 
rous gallantry as any of the wars in the Holy Land. The deeds of 
the lover-kjiights were then sung by the mmstrel, and for ages after 
were breathed Ln bower and hall, and are not yet forgotten, but stUl 
enamour the brave and the fair in this cool age of philosophy; — shall 
our heroes want an historian 1 After the second attack, which was 
made on the 5th of the same month, the bashaw lowered his terms 
for peace, offering to take five hundred dollars for each prisoner, and 
require no stipulation for peace hereafter. This also was not ad- 
2 A2 36 



282 LECTURES ON 

missible. On the 28th, another attack was made ; and the next on 
the 3d of September. The fickleness of the seas in winter would 
not admit of any further attacks this season. The next summer 
they were to be renewed with a vigorous determination to carry 
fire and sword into the palace of the bashaw. On the 10th of Sep- 
tember, Preble surrendered his command to Commodore Barron. 
The secretary said tliat this was a matter of necessity. Tlie secre- 
tary was an honourable man. Enough was done to induce the 
bashaw to make peace on the 3d of June, 1805, on favourable terms, 
or rather on just terms. Thus ended a war which surprised the 
nations of Europe. They had often smiled to think the United 
States, a new-born nation, should be so presimiptuous as to suppose 
that she could put down these predatory hordes, which had exacted 
tribute from all the commercial world, from time immemorial ; but 
it was done, and the lookers on were astonished at the events as 
they transpired. The Pope, who had ever been deeply interested 
in all these pagan wars, or rather, all these wars against pagan 
powers, declared that this infant nation had done more in a 
few years, in checking the insolence of these infidels, than all the 
nations of Europe for ages. The thunders of the Vatican had passed 
harmlessly over these pirates' heads, through more than ten succes- 
sors of St. Peter, until the United States had brought these infidels 
to terms by the absolute force of naval power. The head of the 
church saw that the people of a free nation had felt the degradation of 
paying tribute, and were determined to do so no longer than they coiUd 
concentrate their energies, and direct them to bear upon the general 
foe of Christendom. The whole was indeed a wonder, that a nation 
that scarcely had risen into the great family of independent powers, 
should be able to grapple with, and in a measure subdue, these bar- 
barians, who had been for so long a time the scourge of mankind. 
We had not taken one power alone, but all from the Atlantick to 
the Red Sea. The Doge, who had been wedded to the Adriatick, 
and promised for the dower of his bride, the dominion of the seas 
from the Delta of Egypt to the straits of Gibraltar, had never in the 
pride of aristocratick strength, claimed the honour of humbling the 
" insolent Turk" to the extent that the United States had done in a 
few years. The arm of liberty, when properly directed, was always 
deadly to despotism. These exertions gave our flag a rank among 
the nations of Europe, in these classical seas, in which so great a 
proportion of all the sea-fights in the annals of man had taken place, 
from the early ages of fable and romance to modern times. The 
corsair, who had been the terror of the world, was now found a 
furious, but not unconquerable foe ; and the barbarians, whose tre- 
mendous fierceness had beert the tale of wonder in every age, seemed, 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 283 

in our mode of warfare, less dangerous than the aboriginals we had 
been contending with from the cradle of our nation. We have 
sworn to pay no tribute in this region, but this were vain ; shall not 
the mighty dead demand the tribute of a tear? And shall this be de- 
nied? Shall not the lover of his country shed one sacred dew drop 
of nature to the memory of Somers, Wadsworth, and Israel?* Shall 
we repeat the glories of Salamis and of the Nile, and forget our own 
heroes who devoted themselves to destruction for our honour ? Oh ! 
no ; such actions are rare on the page of history and shall not be 
forgotten ; the dullest of the sons of men shall acknowledge that 
there does exist, in the soul of the brave, a romantick love of country 
and of fame, when reminded of the deeds and fate of these victims ; 
and shall we be wanting in these reminiscences ? No ; generous 
spirits ! you shall be brought forth on all proper occasions, and your 
country's historians charged with handing down to the latest pos- 
terity your noble sacrifice— that of self-immolation on your country's 
altar. Your business was to die, and you have finished it up ; be it 
ours to take in charge your fame, and transmit it to future times. 

Here I shall stop as to the history of our navy, for all the inci- 
dents on which future history is to be founded, are fully blazoned 
in the newspapers of the day, and so generally spread upon the 
pages of our literary and historical journals, that it would be 
premature, perhaps, to attempt to condense, connect, and correct 
them for history ; the laurels of our navy are too green and dewy at 
this hour to be fit to garner up for preservation ; but suffice it now 
to say, that Ave are contented with the present size of our navy, 
and are proud of its fame in every stage of its growth. A navy 
should always be in proportion to the number, the wealth, the com- 
merce, and the spirit of a people. It should grow no faster than 
its duties are required, and never over represent the strength of a 
nation. Its growth should be so gradual that no ignorance of nauti- 
cal subjects should ever be seen in the crew of a ship, and still new 
sailors should be instructed in every cruise. The greatest possible 
science and efficiency in the smallest possible compass, should be 
the standing maxim of those who love a navy. It is not the creation 
of a navy, that we are now, as a nation, to think of it is only the 
management and increase of that navy, that should be brought for- 
ward as subjects of consideration ; and for this increase we can have 
no particular anxiety. Skilful artizans to build a navy have never 
been wanting in this country since its earliest days ; they abound 
now, and are possessed of all the improvements of the art of ship- 
building ; and these are not a few. On our part of this continent we 

♦ See Appendix, Note D. 



284 LECTURES ON 

have timber enough for all the navies of the world ; our forests and 
pastures, produce it faster than it can be used; and science has 
taught us to make as much again as we used to, of what we have. 
In addition to these great stores, the providence of a late secretary 
of the navy, with the assistance of Congress, has secured an abun- 
dance of the best of live oak, by reserving for the use of the govern- 
ment, an immense forest of this growth in Florida. This cost the 
nation but little more than the sagacious efforts of a man of political 
forecast; the worth of a statesman is seldom kno^vn until he 
passes away ; and those who do the most good, often share the 
fate that the ignorant and time-serving deserve, or a worse one. 
We can never want for sailors, as long as our cod and whale 
fishery are pursued, and our foreign commerce is protected. 

Our mariners have amounted to one hundred and eight thousand, 
and over; a fourth part of these can, on an emergency, be spared 
for the navy, and these, with a small proportion of fresh recruits, 
would instantly make up a most formidable force for naval opera- 
tions. The iron and hemp, or its substitute cotton, can easily be 
found here, and will be supplied as fast as wanted. The only ma- 
teriel we were ever charged to be wanting in, was scientifick navi- 
gators, not hardy seaman, and these we are every day schooling 
for our requisitions. The two hundred and fifty lieutenants, and 
the four hundred and sixteen midshipmen, wiU supply the place of 
those who in the course of nature pass away, and the list of our 
veteran naval officers is rapidly diminishing. Those who come up 
will not naturally be greater men than their predecessors ; but it will 
not be denied that their advantages for obtaining knowledge wiU 
be much greater. Bravery remains as it has been— and how 
could it be exceeded ? — nautical science is advancing with us as in 
other countries. There is not a discovery in agriculture, the arts, or 
in manufacturing, that has not a bearing upon our navy, directly 
or indirectly. The cost of buildmg, supporting, and educating a 
navy, is now nearly reduced to a standing certainty. The people 
can at once make calculations for themselves ; there is no mystery 
about the matter ; for they can at a glance estimate the expenses 
of this branch of power. One man from every hundred persons, 
in our community, and two days labour every year for those persons 
in our country capable of labour, will support a navy far superiour 
to whatever the most ambitious statesman will ever ask of the 
country. And to whom is this paid ? All, to ourselves : millions for 
defence, but not a cent for tribute, was the maxim of our infancy 
as a nation. This Avill be perpetual ; but a wiser one wiU be, never 
to ask, or seek for that power, that will make other nations tribu- 
tary to us, except, through the medium of a hberal reciprocity iji 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 285 

commerce. Tliat nation is hated, however much it may be feared, 
Avho domineers o\'er another from the mere consciousness of power; 
and that nation despised, that succumbs, while it can maintain its 
existence and independence by any sacrifices whatever. We must 
not be too impaljent for greatness ; we are indeed apt to be so, for 
we have witnessed what no other nation has befoi-e seen, a people 
grow as rapidly into wealth and power as an enterprising individual 
ever did. Other nations have waited for centuries, for what we have 
experienced in the course of half a human life, a fourfold increase. 
The growth of the navy of our mother country, has been slow, 
compared with ours,* but in truth no comparison exists. They 
made their navy for self-existence, and for an extension of power ; 
ours grew out of a spirit of independence, and will we trust be 
maintamed for the same glorious principle. But if all the ships 
we now own, were sunk in the ocean, and every navy officer with 
them, gallant, skilful, and intelligent as they are, the American 
navy would not be destroyed. The navy exists in the hearts and 
wills of the people ; and in the event of its destruction, it wovdd be 
recreated as certain as the existence of the nation ; all prejudices 
against a navy have been overcome and destroyed forever ; and 
this is sufficient. The permanence of our navy depends on publick 
opinion, and this is made up irrevocably. The decree of this re- 
publick is gone forth ; and none but the God of battles can reverse 
it, and that decree is, the United States must and shall be a 
naval power, and her flag shall he respected in every quarter 
of the globe. This decree rests on no contingency, no change of 
party, no particular administration of government ; it is incorporated 
with our habits, it is a good share of our feelings, and it is, also, a 
part of our fame, A mighty, a growing people, whose impulses 
are " thought-executing fires," and whose settled determination is 
fate, have Ufted their voice, and it must be obeyed. 

— eo©— 
POSTSCRIPT. 

One word at parting with my readers, by way of explanation and 
farewell. It has been said by those who are jealous of our rising 
greatness, that we dwell on the future, and endeavour to show what 
we shall be in a century or two to come ; forgetting the present and 
the past ; — they will not, I trust, charge me with taking this course ; 
for mine certainly has been a different one. The past, almost exclu- 
sively, has occupied my attention in these pages, offered to my 

* See Appendix, Note E. 



386 POSTSCRIPT. 

countrymen. Among the poets, I have mentioned only two hving 
ones, except by some slight allusion to those who are around me, 
when it could not fairly be avoided, and these two I have named be- 
long to another age. Among the orators, I remember only one of the 
living of whom I have given an account, and the same remark would 
apply to him ; and if I have slightly trespassed on this rule, in regard 
to writers of history and matters of taste, it was only to direct the youth- 
ful mind to such works as I thought proper sources of information. 
Among the painters, I have noticed but one among the living, and for 
doing this I will not ask forgiveness until the reader has considered 
that subject ; not now; but what a galaxy of distinguished painters, 
who are in active life, and " buying golden opinions of all sorts of 
men," are now before me, my countrymen, and some of them my per- 
sonal friends, that I might have named, and found it delightful to have 
exhibited, to borrow a phrase from the art itself, in the best lights I 
was master of. The engravers too, who, with us, have lately sprung 
np, but whose works are of a high order of genius, would have 
filled many a page, if justice had been done them, but have scarcely 
been mentioned in gross ; although for them too I was prepared to 
say something in particidar. On our living orators, and I have, 
perhaps, heard as many of them speak as any one of their admirers, 
volumes might be written ; all these things, and many more, which 
make up our national mental affluence, I have passed over at present, 
in order to say, as much as I had leisure to say, of the past — that 
past which should be dear to us all, not merely because it is the 
past, but because it was filled up with many great men, and some 
good things. I have said that I cherished the hope of seemg my 
book, m some not far distant day, in the hands of school children, 
in a cheap and proper edition for their use. If my book has errom-s 
— and what book is without them ? — and particidarly one that in 
this way treats of historical events — What better place can there be 
to correct these errours, than under the eye of a slurewd instructor, 
who detects them. 

It may be said that all school books should be written with the 
utmost simplicity, and no words, but such as are strictly household, 
should be found in them. Tliis may hold good for books intended 
for very yovmg cliildren ; but most certainly, the upper classes of 
our common schools are capable of miderstanding any historical 
subject, in whatever style it may be ^ATitten. The study of etymo- 
logy shoidd keep pace with other studies ; and words, for whose 
definitions we resort to the dictionary in the school- room, are re- 
membered with more certainty and accuracy, (for the truth of tliis 
remark, I appeal to the experience of every scholar,) than those we 
occasionally make ourselves acquainted with in a later period of life. 



POSTSCRIPT. 287 

A habit of correct spelling is never learnt, unless it be a matter of 
memory from elementary instruction ; and it is in some measure 
true as to the signification of words. It is a great errour in edu- 
cation to underrate the capacities of youth. It is not many years 
ago that algebra was thought to be too severe a study for minds not 
arrived at a good degree of maturity ; and now males and females 
at fourteen, are often well versed in the science. 

I cannot quit this subject, without insisting most strenuously on 
the propriety of introducmg the history of our country, in eveiy 
proper shape and form, into our pubUck schools. It may be some- 
times in a condensed form, at others, in an extended one ; and so 
often diversified that facts and principles should be lastingly im- 
pressed on the minds of the rising generations. It is essentially 
wrong to commence the history of our o^vn country after we have 
finished that of other countries ; we may then with profit and pride 
review our history, but it should be read first of all. Would not a 
mother thmk the instructor beside himself, who would advise her 
to teach her child the ancient, or foreign languages, before he began 
to lisp his vernacular ? And is it not equally wrong for him to study 
the geography and history of all the rest of the world, before he 
begins to think of his own ? An intelligent Englishman once re- 
marked to the writer, that he was astonished to find so many per- 
sons in the United States, so well acqviainted with British history ; 
and yet, so entirely unable to give an extended, or a mmute account 
of their own. I find but few, (said he) that are not quite at home 
in our history up to the Saxon heptarchy, but I can get but little out 
of them respecting your aifairs, no further back than the revolution ; 
and this, (he added) I have considered as pretty good evidence that 
in every thing but political feeling, which is most truly sufficiently 
opposed to us, you are colonies still ; and is not the inference a fair 
one ? When your children and full grown scholars know more of 
our king and nobility, and our speeches in parliament, than they do 
about your o^vn pohticians, savans and literati ? Tlie answer to this 
was, if we know much of you, we know more of distant countries 
and ancient history, and would not your reasoning make us colo- 
nics of EgjTDt, Greece, or Rome, as well as of England ? If the in- 
ference was wrong, the satire was not the less biting, for the facts 
on which it was founded were nevertheless fairly stated. This 
errour, however, is not one that originated with us, we have it by 
direct inheritance ; our fathers brought it with them, and it has con- 
tinued with us ever since. Many a learned Englishman, both now 
and in former times, could give a better description of every inch of 
classical ground, than he could of the momitams of Scotland and 
Wales, and tell you more about the caverns at Delphos than of the 



389 POSTSCRIPT. 

mines of Cornwall, or turn more readily to a page of Strabo than of 
Guthrie : but it is of little consequence from whence this errour m 
education arose, if it is only acknowledged to be one ; for then it 
will not take long to correct it. It is not to narrow the circle of 
information that I strive to induce my countrymen to make our 
own affairs the centre of that circle ; do this, and then extend them 
as far as you please ; to embrace all countries, and ages, and all 
forms of human knowledge. A youth bred at home, becomes fa- 
miliar with aU in his village, and the covmtry around ; his heart 
and memory never forget a single circumstance of his boyhood ; 
his fishing, skating, and even his truant frolicks, all become en- 
deared to him in after life from the charm of retrospection. His 
early associations are forever fresh ; the farther he is off, the dearer 
his early associations ; his heart, imtravelled, fondly turns to the 
sceiies of his childhood ; and he contemplates them when he wishes 
to forget other scenes and many unpleasant events ; but had he 
been educated abroad from his infancy, passed the bloom of his 
youth in Greece and Italy, had then travelled into Asia, and had in 
manhood come back to the abodes of his forefathers, would not the 
gable ends, the Lutheran windows, and the low rooms of the pater- 
nal mansion, seem tasteless and almost vulgar ? What aimt would he 
think of? What cousin or her blooming children would he inquire for ? 
He would hardly ask how long his grandfather had been dead, or if the 
parish church stood in the same place it did when he went away ? 
And I ask if the same process, on a larger scale, is not going on in the 
mind of the youth, as it regards our country and her history, if he be 
permitted to begin his education by looking to remote antiquity for 
instruction and pleasure, and if not there, to those countries whose 
institutions are of early date, and whose fame is the growth of a 
thousand years ? What to the boy are the tame and common place 
things of life after he has become familiar with the romance of 
early history, if his heart had not been previously secured by 
the sweet affections of the domestick circle ? Rivet his soul to them 
first, and, true as the needle to the pole, his yearnings will be for 
home, even in the palaces of the Caesars ; and while viewing the 
dome of St. Peters, on a grand festival, he will think of the village 
church, where he commingled the love of his dear mother with 
reverence for his God ; and perhaps there the beatings of his heart, 
as a susceptible and an enamoured being, were first made known to 
himself. Secure the morning vow of the votary for his country, 
and every prayer, and vigil, and oath, and sacrifice, will be hers 
during his life. 



APPENDIX. 



Note A. 



In 1731, the British merchants sent to the governors of all the 
provinces for a statement of their commerce, manufactures, &c. &c. 
Several of the governors answered the merchants to the best of 
their information upon the subject ; but in the New-England states 
the business of manufacturing many useful articles had been so far 
extended as to excite the jealousy of the mother country, and a full 
development of their progress, most evidently, was not made. 
This famous report of the British merchants was signed by Paul 
Dockminique, and dated February 15th, 1731 — 2, and contains no 
small quantity of information. His report states that Virginia and 
Maryland together exported annually to Britain, sixty thousand 
hogsheads of tobacco, weighing six hundred poimds each ; besides 
furs, skins, and some few other articles. Pennsylvania had a most 
flourishing commerce in provisions, and New- York had nearly 
the whole command of the fur trade. New-Jersey had consider- 
able commerce at this time, and great expectations Avere raised on 
the copper mines. New-England had then a great trade, for then 
she was the carrier of the other provinces as well as of her own 
goods. Ship-building was brisk, and the French and Spaniards 
were ready piu-chasers. She had then more than forty thousand 
tons of shipping actually employed. The lumber trade was exten- 
sive — the masts, spars, &c. of the British navy were found in this 
coimtry, as one of our poets, soon after this time, has said, in speak- 
ing of England — 

" The stately mast that bears their flag on high, 
Grew in our soil, and ripened in our sky." 

At this period, Massachusetts had six furnaces and nineteen forges 
for making hollow ware, and for casting small cannon, bombs, shot, 
&c. for the supply of the demands of the militia and naval force 
2B 37 



290 APPENDIX, 

in privateers, &c. Nails were made in considerable quantities, 
particularly those of a large kind. The fisheries of New-England 
were very great at this time. In the year 1732, the town of Mar- 
blehead alone had one hundred and twenty schooners engaged in 
the cod fishery, and made a hundred and twenty thousand quintals. 
This was a fortunate year, for there Avas a profound peace in Eu- 
rope that year, or no war that extended to the Atlantick. For seve- 
ral years afterwards the business fell off; and, in fact, all commerce 
suffered a long time, insomuch that I presume the account given by 
Douglass, tAventy years afterwards, of the entrances and clearances, 
will fall short of the amount at the close of the first century — say 
1731, for this was about a century from the time they got well fixed 
in their residences in Salem, Boston, and a few other places in the 
province of Massachusetts Bay. At the close of the first century, 
the whale fishing had reached a considerable magnitude, and the fame 
of our harpooners was knovra in England. The adventurous whale- 
men went off in small vessels for their game ; and a single whale 
they killed often weighed more tons than their schooner measured. 
The shipping of New-Hampshire, from December 25, 1747, to 
December 25, 1748, including only vessels engaged in foreign voyages, 
was as foUoAVS : — cleared out, one hundred and twenty-one ; entered, 
seventy-three. In addition to these, there were about tAvo himdred 
coasting sloops and schooners engaged in the lumber trade to Bos- 
ton and elseAvhere along the coast. 

The entrances and clearances from NcAvport, from the 25th of 
March, 1748, to 25th of March, 1749, were, entered seventy-five ves- 
sels of different sizes — cleared out, one hundred and sixty. They 
had groAvn rich by privateering and driving the West India trade. 

At the same period, Connecticut had less commerce ; thirty-seven 
vessels Avere entered at the custom-house, and sixty-tAvo cleared. 

The commerce of New-York, from the 29th of September, 1749, 
to 29th of September, 1750, was entered two hundred and thirty- 
three vessels, including coasters — cleared out, tAvo hundred and 
eighty, of the same description. Tliat of Massachusetts Avas much 
larger. From the tAVO custom-houses in Massachusetts, from De- 
cember 28, 1747, to December 28, 1748, there Avere five hundred and 
forty vessels cleared out, and four hundred and thirty entered. The 
commerce of Ncav- Jersey Avas, at this period, considerable ; from 
June 24, 1750, to June 24, 1751, at the custom-house at Perth Amboy, 
there Avere forty-one vessels entered, and thirty-eight cleared out. 
At this period Pennsylvania was, although a much younger settle- 
ment than those around her, in a most flourishing condition ; from 
March 2, 1748-9, to Christmas of the same year, there Avere three 
hundred and three entries of vessels of considerable size, and two 



APPENDIX. 291 

hundred and ninety-one clearances, and there were then thirty-nine 
vessels of considerable size in the harbour of Philadelphia, nineteen 
of which were ships. 

Tliese particulars might be extended, with a little research, but I 
have not the leisure to do it. 



Note B. 



I have often repeated, that as a nation we have done but little for 
the illustrious dead of our country. The extent of our territory is one 
great cause of our neglect in this subject ; we cannot have a West- 
minster Abbey for statesmen, heroes, and poets, or historians ; these 
men die too far apart to be gathered in the same cemetery ; but what 
the nation has done, however small it may be, should be mentioned. 
In the plan of the city of Washington, the government appropriated 
about ten acres of land to a national burying ground, on the eastern 
branch of the Potomack, or rather went into partnership with the 
owners of the soil for this purpose ; for there the private and publick 
dead rest in republican simplicity together. It is a good site for 
tombs ; on the north-east corner are to be found the graves of the 
publick characters who have died at Washington since 1800. There 
are about twenty-two or three members of Congress, two vice-presi- 
dents, and several officers of the army and navy buried there. The 
monuments of the members of Congress, are plinths of about five 
feet square on the ground ; on this rests what is properly the monu- 
mental stone, about three feet high ; on this is placed a pediment com- 
ing bluntly to an apex. A very simple inscription, giving but little 
more than the birth, death, and, perhaps, dates of service of the de- 
ceased, is all that is found on them, or all that stay the traveller ; 
(and every traveller is a visiter of a grave-yard by immemorial usage.) 
Some of these sleeping politicians were men of mind, of eloquence, 
of patriotism, of learning, and should be remembered; but the space 
any single individual ordinarily occupies in society is soon filled 
up after he is gone, particularly in a republican government. This 
is right. 

These tomb-stones of the deceased members of Congress, are 
shaped like the cinerary urns of the ancients, which were generaEy 
placed in the niches in the walls of the sepulchral chambers of those 
wonderful edifices, which in early ages were erected for the resting 
place of the dead. 

Two vice-presidents of the United States are tenants of this burial 
ground in Washmgton : George Clinton and Elbridge Gerry : they 



202 APPENDIX. 

died in office in the city. The monument of Gerry was erected by 
Congress, and if the critical artist finds some fault with it, as a sub- 
ject of classical taste, still he must acknowledge that, as a whole, it 
is equal to any thing of the kind in our country. It is about six 
and a half feet square at the base, and about fifteen feet m height ; 
the die diminishes as it rises, and is empannelled ; on the die rests 
a truncated pyramid, and on this is a multipod, intended for an an- 
cient tripod, and this is surmounted by a sepulchral lamp. The 
whole appearance is good, and the finishings are beautiful. The 
epitaph is composed of a few dates, and a pithy sentence from some 
of his works. The monument erected to the memory of Clinton, 
is in a more severe style of the art. The shape and size of the 
monument is nearly the same, except that the die does not diminish 
as it rises, and the pyramid is brought to a regular point ; this is 
crowned with an iron hour-glass, which is in bad taste, it was a 
wide stretch of the imagination, to take the lamp from the sepulchre 
and place it on the apex of the mausoleum, but this was somewhat 
disguised in marble ; but when the conceit of time's giving up to 
eternity, is shown in naked iron, in the form of a broken hour-glass, 
the effect is not good. The epitaph on this monument is something 
longer than on Mr. Gerry's ; but it is not remarkable for any thing 
but modesty. The ornaments of the work are a basso-relievo head 
of Mr. Clinton, and not an indifferent likeness ; the Roman fasces, 
the caduceus, and the cross-swords ; emblems of civil, pohtical, and 
military functions. Both of these men were patriots of the revo- 
lution, and filled a wide space in the eyes of their countrymen. 
Near these are other monuments, erected to the memory of the 
officers of the navy and army, in good taste. Major General Bro^vn 
lies in a small enclosure, with a very small head-stone, with this 
inscription, '^ Major General Brown.'''' Near him, a very neat 
monument erected by order of the king of Prussia, to his deceased 
minister, Frederick Grehum, who died in this country, in 1823. 
Among the most striking of this monumental cluster, is one erected 
to the memory of a Choctaw chief, Push-ma-ta-ha. It holds a sort 
of middle space between the monuments of the vice-presidents and 
the members of Congress . The inscription is worthy of note. 

" PUSH-M A-TA-HA, 

a 

Choctaw Chief, 

lies here. 

This monument to his memory is erected 

by his brother chiefs, 

who were associated with liim 



APPENDIX. 293 

in a 

Delegation 

from their nation, 

in the year 1824, to the 

general government 

of the 

United States." 

On the reverse is the following: 

" Push-ma-ta-ha was a warrior 

of great distinction. 

He was wise in council, 

eloquent in an extraordinary degree ; 

and on all occasions, 

and under all circumstances, 

the white man's friend. 

He died in Washington, 

on the 24th of December, 1824, 

of the cramp, in the 

60th year of his age." 

Amongst his last words 

were the following : 

" When I am gone, let the big guns 

be fired over me." 

TTiis son of the forest had caught something of civilization. His 
nation were among the first to cultivate the gromid on an extensive 
scale. They knew something of the value of letters, and began to 
see that there were surer methods of gaming immortality than by 
trusting to a misshapen mound, or a short-lived tradition. Push- 
ma-ta-ha fearlessly departed, and the big guns were fired as a farewell 
to the shade of the warrior and the white marl's friend. 

While my mind was on this subject of doing honour to the dead, 
I came across the following elegant description of a tomb, which I 
copy because the work from which it is taken is rare, and will not 
probably ever be common. It is from Ldeutenant Colonel For- 
resfs Picturesqxie Tour up the Jumna and Ganges, and through 
various parts of India. Not that I ask of my countrymen to build 
such a one even for Washington ; but I quote it to show how much 
others have done to venerate the dead, and to provide a sepulchre 
for themselves. 

" The object which now calls our attention is the last in order, but 
2B2 



294 APPENDIX. 

of the highest beauty and interest of any structure yet raised and 
perfected by man in any region of the earth. It is only a tomb, 
it is true, and contains the mouldering remains of what was noble, 
powerful, and beautiful ; all these have passed away ; but their 
names, their fame, their deeds remain ; and these works promise to 
hand down to distant ages their well-earned renown. 

This tomb, the mausoleum of the emperor. Shah Jehan and his 
favourite queen, Moomtaz ul Zemani, (or Wonder of the Age,) 
stiU exists, and in all its pristine beauty and perfection. Time, with 
his efforts for a period of two hundred years, has as yet scarcely 
cast one sullying stain on its pure and lovely mass. 

The first approach to this wonderful work by no means gives an 
idea of the splendid scene which is to be encountered ; the road is 
impeded and the eye bewildered by the ruins of old brick and 
stone buildings, said to have once been a serai, or place for the 
accommodation of travellers, or more probably pilgrims who came 
to visit this monument. 

The main gateway is seen after passing these ruins; it faces 
nearly south, and is constructed with the red stone, but ornamented 
in pannels of rich Mosaick in various parts. It is a massive and 
lofty pile, and has apartments in its upper part, which can be as- 
cended by a staircase, and from whence is a fine view of the tomb. 
This building is an octagon, and after passing under its grand portal, 
a scene bursts at once upon the eye, which dazzles the senses, and 
wraps every other feeling in that of astonishment. The Taje ap- 
pears embosomed in a mass of foliage of a deep green at the further 
extremity of a large and handsome garden, with its lofty and elegant 
minarets, and its dome of extreme beauty and airy lightness ; the 
whole of the purest white marble, richly inlaid in patterns of the 
semiprecious stones, as cornelian, jasper, onyx, and a variety of 
others of all hues. 

A noble causeway of stone, raised considerably above the level of 
the garden, leads up to the main building, in the centre of which is a 
range of fountains, fifty in number ; and midway a large basin, in 
which five other jets-cPeau of much greater height are thrown up. 

The garden is fiUed with trees of almost every kind common to 
India ; some bearing fruits, others perfuming the air with the odo- 
riferous scents of their blossoms. 

The Taje stands on two terraces ; the lower and largest of an ob- 
long shape, is composed wholly of red stone ; this is ascended by a 
flight of steps, and on reaching the summit, a large mosque is per- 
ceived at each end of it, which in any other situation than so close 
to their lovely companion, would be considered as noble and splendid 



APPENDIX. 898 

edifices. These may be ascended, and from their upper apartments 
command good vieAvs of the main building. 

To the second or upper terrace, which has a height of about fif- 
teen feet, you ascend by a flight of white marble steps ; of these 
the upper slab, or landing place, is one piece of pure white marble, 
nine feet square. This upper terrace is floored with a chequered 
pavement of white and red. Upon this stands the tomb, surrounded 
by a marble balustrade ; at each angle of which rises a graceful 
minaret of three stories, in sweet proportions. At each story is a 
door, which opens on a balustraded balcony surrounding it. That 
summit is finished by a light pavilion, with a small golden orna- 
ment on its top. 

All that now presents itself to the eye of the spectator is pure, 
misullied, white marble, variously ornamented. The entrance to 
the building is on the side opposite to the gi'and gateway. It is a 
lofty portico, with an arch partaking of the form of the gothick 
order, but differing in its proportions. Round the upper part of 
this are inscriptions in Arabick, done in black marble on the white 
ground. 

Previous to viewing the grand chamber, where the cenotaphs of 
the emperor and his queen are placed, it is usual to descend by a 
trap-door, situated in the entrance, into a gradually sloping passage, 
which conducts to the graves of the royal dead. The vault is lined 
with marble, and the pavement is of the same material. In the 
centre is the grave of the queen, for whom this mausoleum was 
solely intended ; and the emperor's design was to have erected a 
similar edifice on the opposite bank of the Jumna, which river 
washes the foot of the Taje Mahal, and has a breadth of five or six 
hundred yards. The magnificent monarch did not mean to rest 
here ; he meditated the joining of the two mausoleums by a marble 
bridge, ornamented in the same splendid manner. Civil wars, 
caused by the rebellion of his four sons, suspended and finally put 
an end to these magnificent projects ; and after a variety of suffer- 
ings, this unfortunate prince died in his prison, in the fort of Agra, 
where he was held captive for seven years, by his son Aurungzebe, 
then reigning emperor of Hindoostan. 

Returning to the light of day, we entei'ed the centre chamber. 
Description must here fail, nor can imagination figure any thing so 
solemnly grand, so stilly beautiful, as the scene thus suddenly pre- 
sented to the view. Every tongue is mute, every sense lost in 
admiration. Tliere are no gaudy, glaring decorations to arrest the 
vulgar eye ; no glittering gold or silver to mark the riches of India's 
monarch. There is an awe, a feeling of deep reverence for the sacred 
spot on which we tread j an involuntary pause, a breathless siis- 



296 APPENDIX. 

pension, and a recollection of, and recurrence to, events long passed, 
which this scene conjures up in the breast of all who witness it for 
the first time. 

Imagine a vaulted dome, of considerable height, of the most ele- 
gant and light Gothick architecture, aU composed of the finest and 
the whitest marble j its form octagonal. In the centre stands a 
screen of the same, wrought into the most lovely patterns in fret 
work, showing a freedom of design and extreme minuteness of exe- 
cution, unequalled in this or perhaps any other country. The form 
of this screen corresponds with that of the apartment, an octagon 
with four larger and four lesser faces. At each angle are two 
pilasters, on which the most beautiful running patterns of various 
flowers, true to nature, rise from the base of this screen, while a 
broad and rich border of the same surrounds the upper part. There 
are two arched doorways in this screen, opposite to each other, and 
over the top of which is a rich pattern of a stone perfectly resem- 
bling the purest matt gold. An entablature of the richest pattern 
surrounds the upper part of the screen ; and in a border of pome- 
granate flowers, which runs the whole length of it, every fidl-blown 
flower contains no less than sixty-one pieces of various coloured 
stones, according to the different shades required, and joined with 
such exactness and extreme nicety, that with a sharp pointed pen- 
knife no seam can be distinguished. Within this screen are the two 
cenotaphs, on which the sculptor and Mosaick artist have lavished 
all their skill. These are blocks of marble, and apparently one 
stone, ten feet in length by six broad. Below and above this are 
larger slabs, forming the pediment and cornice. A rich and large 
pattern is on the four faces of the cenotaphs, the two differing from 
each other ; and the upper tablet on the queen's tomb has a cluster 
of flowers, arranged in the most elegant and free style of design ; 
while that of the emperor is surromided by the kullum daun, the 
distinguishing sign for a man, the woman not having this ornament. 
This screen had gates of silver in open filigree work, which were 
carried off" by some of the invaders of India. This tomb is not alto- 
gether the work or design of artists of Hindoostan. I have seen a 
list of the names of all the master masons, sculptors, and artisans ; 
the greater part are from Persia, Cabul, and some even from Con- 
stantinople, or Turkey, called by the Indians Roum. 

Some traces of similar inlaying and Mosaick are met with at 
Delhi and in the palace at Agra ; but the art is now lost, if it ever 
existed, among the Hindoostanees ; and this tends to confirm the 
idea that it was the work of foreign artists. 

The main part of this splendid edifice has fortunately been re- 
spected by all the invaders of Hindoostan, its great beauty beiBg 



APPENDIX. 



297 



probably its protection. It is as pure and perfect as the day it v/as 
finished ; and with common care, in the equal chmate in which it 
is situated, it may last for centuries. 

"With the description of this wonder of the world, the tour of 
the author closes. He is well aware that some errours may pos- 
sibly be found in it ; but these are almost inseparable from a work 
written, as this was, while moving rapidly through a country in 
which the subjects worthy of notice are so numerous and so widely 
scattered, that some, too many indeed, must be unavoidably passed 
unnoticed and unseen. As to the views, they are faithfid copies 
from nature, in which no alterations have been made." 



Note C. 
TABLE of the Number of Cadets who have entered and left the 
Military Academy,from its Organization to September 2, 1828. 





Number 
Admitted 


Number 
Commis- 
sioned. 


Resigned 


Dis- 
charged 


Died. 


Remain- 


Maine 


20 


3 


6 


2 




9 


New-Hampshire 


30 


17 


6 


2 




9 


Massachusetts 


91 


53 


32 


3 


2 


12 


Connecticut 


39 


27 


9 


1 




8 


Rhode-Island 


14 


5 


4 


2 




4 


Vermont 


48 


38 


8 


3 


2 


4 


New- York 


218 


107 


m 


29 


3 


33 


New-Jersey 


30 


14 


10 


3 




7 


Pennsylvania 


110 


42 


43 


17 


2 


26 


Delaware 


18 


6 


7 


2 




4 


Maryland 


75 


31 


29 


11 


1 


12 


Virginia 


140 


49 


63 


24 


1 


20 


North Carolina 


62 


18 


30 


7 


1 


13 


South Carolina 


50 


21 


27 


3 




7 


Georgia 


31 


8 


13 


2 


2 


9 


Kentucky 


59 


16 


22 


11 




17 


Tennessee 


39 


10 


15 


7 


3 


8 


Ohio 


44 


15 


13 


7 


1 


14 


Indiana 


14 


5 


6 


2 




4 


Louisiana 


11 


4 


4 


2 




3 


Alabama 


8 


2 


2 


3 




3 


Mississippi 


9 


4 


4 






2 


Illinois 


7 


2 


1 


2 




3 


Missouri 


14 


8 


5 


2 




1 


Michigan 


6 


3 


2 






2 


Arkansas 


2 




1 


1 




I 


England 


1 


1 










Florida 


3 




1 








District of Columbia 


61 


24 


27 


5 


2 


5 


Not designated 


35 


1 


• 18 


9 








1,289 


540 


477 


162 


20 


239 



38 



208 APPENDIX. 



Note D. 



On the entrance to the navy-yard there is a monument erected to 
the memory of Wadsworth, Israel, Decatur, and others, who fell 
before Tripoli, while fighting our naval battles, and earning immor- 
tality for our navy. This monument is worthy of description. It 
stands within a curb-stone circle, about twenty-five feet in diameter; 
the phnth is about fifteen feet square ; on this is a pile of dark 
granite, about four and a half feet high ; on this, as a base, is a 
marble sub-plinth, and on that a die of three and a half feet square, 
and on this a column of ten feet high, surmounted by the nalional 
eagle. The column is enriched by emblematick designs that are full 
of classical history, but rather difficult to be read at a glance. On 
the south side is a representation of the fleet before Tripoli. On 
the opposite side there are appropriate records of the feats of the 
American navy at this period. On the four corners of the granite 
mass, stands four antique lamps in full blaze. The lamp is the 
most classical of the utensils of modern use; their antiquity is be- 
yond all record. In the early ages they were classed as follows: 
sacred, publick, domestick, and sepnJchral. The latter now burns 
only in marble, while taste and fashion have taken possession of 
all kinds of them, and rededicated them to the household gods, and 
added to them the hydrostatick and the astral. The lamp has a 
glorious origin ; it was forged by Vulcan, supplied with oil by 
Minerva, and lighted up by Prometheus, as described in the beauti- 
ful fables of Greece. It is in vain to question ancient taste ; the 
homage of the present age is constantly paid to the taste and genius 
of the ancients ; for in spite of all the boast of modern invention, 
there is not a single trace of all these tributes to the dead that be- 
longs to modern times. 

On the corners of the first marble floor of this monument, stands 
emblematical figures ; on the north-east corner is Mercury with his 
rod ; on the south-east is Neptune — commonly taken for the genius 
of our country ; but then it must be remembered, that other nations 
have claims to the same genius; — he wears a sea-weed crown, and 
points to an emblem of history, who is quietly on the other corner 
with her sketch book. The whole work is light and aiiy; and 
when carefidly read is full of poetry; and if not of an epick 
cast, most certainly it has much in it of a beautiful dirge. The 
marble of this monument is fine, and some of the chiselling is ex- 
quisite. It was executed in Italy, and by some of the first masters. 
There is in this, and some other monuments brought from Italy, a 
mixture of pm-e classical taste, and of modern design, that makes it 



APPENDIX. 



200 



difficult to read them correctly ; and if we do get at a right con- 
struction, they must sometimes be as incongruous as the labours 
of the artist, who, in a full length figure of Napoleon, gave him a 
cocked hat with Roman sandals. This union presents a thousand 
difficult points of taste. Even Chantry did not venture to make 
Washington a Roman consul ; but shaped a modern military cloak 
into a consular robe. This has been ably defended ; and, as Sir 
Roger de Coverly says, much may be said on both sides. Give us 
good specimens of execution, for design is more a matter of imagi- 
nation ; these are easily corrected. 



Note E. 
NAVY OF THE UNITED STATES, 1828. 



Ships of Lhe Line. 


-7. 




Sloops of War. — 


12. 




GUNS. 




GUNS. 




Inrlcppndence 


7-1 


In ordinary. 


Hornet 


18 


In commissron. 


Fninidiii 


do 


do 


Eric 


do 


do 


Washinrrton 


do 


do 


(Ontario 


do 


do 


Columbus 


do 


do 


PeacorJi 


do 


do 


Ohio 


do 


do 


i^oston 


do 


do. 


Nortli Caro"ina 


do 


do 


Lexington 


do 


do 


Delaware 


do 


Commiss'n. 


Vinecnnes 


do 


do 








Warren 


do 


do 


Frigates, Ist Class. 


-G. 




Natchez 


do 


do. 


United States 


4'i 


Ordinary. 


Fairfield 


do 


do 


Constitution 


do 


do 


Vandalia 


do 


do 


Guerriere 


do 


Commiss'n. 


St. Louis 


do 


do 


Java 


do 


do 








Potomack 


do 


Ordinary. 


Schooners. — 7. 






Brandyvvine 


do 


Commiss'n. 


Dolphin 


12 


Commiss'n. 








Grampus 


do 


do 


2d Class.—^. 






F^orpoise , 


do 


do 


Congre.ss 


?.G 


Ordinary. 


Shark 


do 


do 


Constellation 


do 


do 


Fox 


3 


Ordinary. 


MaccdoniMn 


do 


Commiss'n. 


Alert (store ship) 




do 


Fulton (steam) 


do 


Ordinary. 


Sea Gull (galliot) 




do 


Corvettcs,3dCIass- 


—2. 










John Adams 


21 


do 








Cyane 


do 


do 









Note. We have five ships of the line on the stocks, and several smaller ones. 
The Hudson frigate, a 44, has been purchased, and since put in commission. 



Rise of the British Navy. Henry VII. 1485.— Built the Great 
Harry, cost £14,000. This was, properly speaking, the first ship 
of the royal navy. Burnt by accident, 1554. 






300 APPENDIX. 

Henry VIII. 1509.— The Regent, the largest ship in the navy, 
was of 1000 tons. Burnt in fight, August, 1512. This king fixed 
the wages of seamen at 5s. per month. Queen EUzabeth raised 
them to 10s. 

In 1521, the navy consisted of 45 ships. In 1545, it contained 
100 ships. Laws made for planting and preserving timber. Dock 
yards founded at Dcptford, Woolwich, and Portsmouth ; also tlie 
Trinity House. At the king's death, in 1547, tonnage of the whole 
navy, 12,445. 







Year. 


Vessel 


3. Tonnag-e. 


Guns. 


Men. 


Edward VI. 




1548 


53 


11,268 






Mary 




1553 


24 


7,110 










rl565 


29 


10,506 




6,570 


Elizabeth, 1558, 




1588 
1 1599 


34 
42 


12,590 




6,279 






11602 


42 


17,055 




8,346 


The expense of the na^y. 


about £30,000 per annum. 




James 




1607 


36 


14,710 




8,174 


Expense £50,000 


per annum 


, exclusive of timber from the 




royal forests, £36,000 


per annum 










1618 


39 


15,100 










1624 


33 


19,400 






Charles I. 




1633 


50 


23,695 


1434 


9,470 


Commonwealth 




5 1652 
i 1658 


102 
157 




4390 


21,910 


Charles II. 




1660 


154 


54,463 








Expi 


enses per annum, 


£500,000. 










1675 


151 


70,587 










1678 


148 


69,004 


5350 


30,260 






1685 


179 


103,558 






James II, 




1688 


173 


101,892 


6930 


42,003 


Wilham and Mary 


51697 
I 1698 


323 
266 












I 1706 


277 








Anne 




< 1711 


313 












( 1714 


247 


167,219 






George I. 




1724 


233 


170,862 






« 




( 1742 


271 








George II. 




} 1753 

( 1756 

rl760 

1783 


291 
320 
412 
617 


234,9^ 

321,104 
500,781 






Ceorge III. 




' 1801 
1805 


864 
949 









^I if 



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